Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD84CNB2K44WPS90KSF1D92

Molly adjusted her black ski mask and stared at the suburban house across the street. Streamers hung from every gutter, and a giant clown face grinned from the front door. "Well, this looks festive," Bill said, checking his phone. "The birthday girl turns six in twenty minutes." "Six years old and we're robbing her party," Molly said. "What's next, stealing Halloween candy?" "That was you last year," Bill pointed out. "The point is, this is beneath us. We're professional criminals, not party crashers." "Relax, Mol. The parents always overcompensate with expensive gifts. I heard little Emma's getting a diamond necklace from her grandparents." Molly's eyes lit up. "Diamond necklace?" "Allegedly." "Okay, now we're talking. What's the plan?" Bill pulled out a blueprint. "We wait for the pizza delivery guy to create a distraction, then we slip in during the chaos." "The pizza guy?" "Hey, every good heist needs a patsy." "And our exit strategy?" "Same way we came in. Through the bounce house." "The bounce house?" "It deflates in seconds. Perfect getaway vehicle." Molly studied the blueprint. "This is insane." "Insane like profitable, or insane like we're going to jail?" "Both, probably." "Come on, Molly. When have I ever led you wrong?" "Last time, you said the llama farm would be easy money." "That was different. Llamas are jerks." Molly sighed. "Fine. But if we're doing this, we do it my way." "Your way?" "We steal the presents, leave our business cards, and call it a day." "Business cards?" "Professional courtesy." Bill stared at her. "You know what? That might be the craziest thing you've ever suggested." "And yet you're considering it." "Touché." Molly grabbed her duffel bag. "Let's go make some children cry." "Children crying is basically our brand at this point." "Speaking of brands, should I wear my 'I Brake for Craft Stores' t-shirt?" "Only if you want the parents to recognize you from last month's PTA fundraiser heist." Molly winced. "That was one time." "And the yarn shop." "Okay, fair point. Ski mask it is." Bill nodded toward the house. "So, distraction, in, grab the good stuff, bounce house exit?" "And business cards." "Got it. Ready to ruin some kid's birthday?" "Ready as I'll ever be." Molly paused at the curb. "You know, we could just rob a bank." "Where's the fun in that?" "Fair point. Besides, banks don't have piñatas." "Now you're thinking like a criminal mastermind." They approached the house as children's laughter spilled onto the lawn. "Remember," Molly whispered, "professional courtesy." "Business cards," Bill confirmed. "And whatever we do, don't touch the cake." "Why?" "Because last time someone stole a birthday cake, it started a neighborhood watch." Molly nodded seriously. "Right. Cake is off limits." "Everything else is fair game." "Fair game." They slipped behind the bushes as the front door swung open, revealing a harried parent chasing a pizza delivery guy. "This is perfect," Bill whispered. "Now or never," Molly replied. They moved toward the back door, duffel bags at the ready, prepared to steal Christmas—er, birthday presents—from a room full of six-year-olds who probably needed the therapy anyway.