Run: 2026-09-25-01M3CKF5WZN058PRRDZ079ZCBF

Molly adjusted her Santa hat, the jingle bell on the tip dangling precariously. "You sure this is the right house? The invite said ‘Pony Rides and Piñatas,’ not ‘Trap House for Cops.’" Bill squinted at the clipboard he’d swiped from the mailbox. "Says here the kid’s name is Timmy. And Timmy’s dad owns that jewelry store we cased last month. These presents ain’t plastic toys, Moll. We’re talking gold-plated LEGO sets." Molly chewed her lip. "Still. Breaking into a kid’s party feels like kicking a puppy. A rich puppy, but still." "Rich puppies grow up to be rich adults who buy yachts named after their dogs. We’re doing society a favor." Bill tugged at his fake beard. "Besides, you got a better plan? The vault at the bank’s got better security than Fort Knox." Molly sighed. "Fine. But if we get caught, I’m telling the cops you cried when you saw the pony." Bill’s eye twitched. "I did not cry. I had allergies. And that pony had *judgmental eyes*." "Sure it did." Molly nodded toward the backyard. "Alright, Phase One: you distract the parents with your world-famous ‘Magical Uncle’ routine. I’ll hit the gift table." Bill puffed out his chest. "You mean my *award-winning* ‘Magical Uncle’ routine. I had a standing ovation in Ohio." "From a crowd of drunk aunts at a wedding. Still counts." Molly adjusted her oversized bowtie. "Just don’t pull the disappearing coin trick. Last time, you lost the coin in your own sleeve." Bill scoffed. "That was one time. And it was a *very* deep sleeve." He pulled a handful of balloons from his pocket. "I’ve upgraded. Watch this." He blew one up, twisted it into a giraffe, and handed it to her. Molly stared. "That’s… actually impressive." Bill grinned. "Told you. Kids love me. Parents trust me. And by the time they realize their Rolexes are missing, we’ll be halfway to Mexico." Molly checked her watch. "Speaking of, we’ve got ten minutes before the cake’s cut. You ready?" Bill cracked his knuckles. "Born ready. But if there’s a clown, I’m out. Clowns are just failed magicians with commitment issues." Molly rolled her eyes. "There’s always a clown. Just don’t make eye contact." Bill shuddered. "Too late. I already saw him. He winked at me." "Focus, Bill. Presents. Then we vanish like bad party favors." Molly gave him a shove toward the gate. "Go be magical." Bill took a deep breath, adjusted his beard, and marched forward, balloons in hand. Molly watched as he immediately tripped over a garden gnome. She muttered, "Or we could just rob a bank."