Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHSAFGSXKVM7QSNX8TENZQ5

Molly adjusted her oversized clown wig and glared at Bill across the sticky kitchen table. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, and that includes the time you tried to rob a funeral dressed as the Grim Reaper.” Bill grinned, shoving half a stolen cupcake into his mouth. “Come on, Mol. It’s genius. Kid’s birthday party at the McMansion on Maple Drive. Fifty screaming rich children, one mountain of presents, zero adults paying attention because they’re all drunk on rosé and performative parenting. We walk in, we walk out. Easy.” “Easy?” Molly jabbed a plastic spork at him. “We’re not exactly built for the under-five crowd, Bill. You look like a hungover bouncer. I look like a clown who lost a fight with a lawnmower.” “That’s the point. We’ll be the entertainment. I’m gonna be Bongo the Magnificent. You’re Sprinkles the Somewhat Stable.” He waved a crumpled party flyer. “They already hired two performers who cancelled last minute. I left a very convincing voicemail.” Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “If we get caught stealing toys from toddlers I will actually murder you. With a Nerf bat. It’ll be slow and humiliating.” “We’re not stealing toys,” Bill said, sounding offended. “We’re stealing the big-ticket items. The Switch, the drone, that ridiculous motorized pony thing that costs more than my car. The kids won’t even notice. They’ll be too busy watching me juggle fruit and accidentally setting the curtains on fire.” “There will be no fire, Bill.” “Probably no fire.” Molly stared at him until he looked away. “Fine. No intentional fire. Look, we go in at peak chaos, right after cake. Parents are half-blind from sugar and iPhone flash. We load the good stuff into the fake ambulance out back—” “Fake ambulance?” “I stole an ambulance. Relax, it’s mostly clean.” Molly closed her eyes. “I hate you so much right now.” “You love me. I bring adventure to your life.” “You bring felonies and heartburn.” She sighed, already reaching for the blueprint he’d drawn on a greasy napkin. “Okay. Back door. I distract the parents with balloon animals that look vaguely threatening. You swap the presents with identically wrapped boxes filled with dictionaries and disappointment. We meet at the ambulance in six minutes. Any longer and some kid’s gonna want a hug and I will not be held responsible for my actions.” Bill beamed. “See? You’re smiling. On the inside. Under all the rage.” “I’m smiling because I’m picturing your face when a sugar-crazed six-year-old asks you to be her pony.” Molly stood, straightening her rainbow suspenders. “If we get arrested, I’m telling them you kidnapped me.” “Fair.” Bill offered her a fist bump. “To the children’s party heist. May our tiny marks never speak of this again.” Molly bumped his fist, already regretting every life choice that had led her here. “If I hear one kid call me Sprinkles, I’m burning the getaway ambulance. With you inside it.” “Love you too, partner.”