Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHR4H1RJFY0AMRQSWMTZAC0

Molly adjusted her fake mustache in the rearview mirror while Bill crammed another handful of jelly beans into his mouth. The van smelled like old pizza and desperation. “Okay, Bill, run it by me one more time,” Molly said, tugging at the collar of her oversized clown suit. “Because if we get recognized at a six-year-old’s birthday party, I’m blaming your entire bloodline.” Bill grinned, rainbow sprinkles stuck to his teeth. “We roll up as Coco and Bubbles, professional party entertainers. I do the balloon animals, you handle the magic tricks. While the kids are distracted by my magnificent giraffe with emotional issues, you slip into the gift room.” “I still don’t understand why we’re stealing from children,” Molly muttered, checking her plastic nose. “There’s something deeply wrong with us.” “These aren’t just any kids, Mol. Little Timmy’s dad is the CEO of that overpriced toy company. Every present in there is worth more than our rent for a year. We’re not stealing toys. We’re redistributing wealth from the spoiled to the… less spoiled. Us.” Molly rolled her eyes so hard she nearly lost a contact. “You practiced that speech in the mirror, didn’t you?” “Every morning while I brush my teeth,” Bill admitted proudly. “Look, we hit the piñata, cause a little chaos, maybe release some crickets if things get too quiet—” “We are not releasing crickets.” “—then while parents are screaming and kids are losing their tiny minds, we load the gifts into the van disguised as the magician’s trunk. Classic misdirection.” Molly stared at him. “You want to traumatize a bunch of first-graders for Xboxes and Barbie dream houses?” Bill shrugged, pulling on his polka-dot suspenders. “Hey, those Xbox kids are gonna grow up to be hedge fund managers anyway. We’re doing society a favor. Character building. They’ll learn early that life is full of disappointing clowns.” “I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Molly said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Last month it was the yacht party. Before that, the diamond heist at the cat show. Now we’re grifting toddlers. What’s next, Bill? Stealing training wheels?” “Hey, those limited-edition Lightyear bikes go for serious cash on the black market,” he said, completely serious. “Think big picture. We get in, we get the haul, we get out before they cut the cake. Nobody gets hurt except maybe their sense of trust in clowns, but honestly that’s a public service.” Molly was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “If we get caught, I’m telling the cops you’re my emotionally unstable cousin from Florida.” “Fair enough,” Bill said, offering her a high-five. “Now let’s go make some kids hate birthdays forever. You ready, partner?” Molly stared at his outstretched hand, then reluctantly slapped it. “I hate how much I love this stupid plan. Let’s go steal some happiness.”