Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK28DV8PNT3ZBMRERBZVBBF

Molly crouched behind the hydrangea bush, adjusting her night vision goggles until they sat comfortably. The suburban lawn stretched out before them, illuminated by inflatable castle lights. Bill checked his lockpick set, clicking the metal tools together for comfort. This is low, even for us, Bill whispered while watching the window. It is easy money, Molly replied without looking away. There are clowns, Mol. I really hate clowns. Focus on the gifts, not the entertainers or their shoes. What if there is a magician too. Then we steal his rabbit as well. Bill shuddered. He shifted his weight, causing a twig to snap loudly under his boot. Molly froze, glaring at him. She pointed toward the back door. The smell of cheap pizza drifted over the fence. It was the scent of childhood innocence, which Molly intended to monetize. She pulled out a blueprint drawn on a napkin. The kitchen layout was complex. A golden retriever named Buster guarded the perimeter near the fridge. What is the plan for the dog inside. I brought treats in my left pocket. Will that work on a guard animal like that. He is a lab. Food is his only god ever. Okay. I will watch the perimeter closely. Good. Do not break any more gnomes. Bill nodded. He looked at the inflatable castle again. It mocked him, a giant purple dragon smiling down with plastic teeth that gleamed in the moonlight. Molly began to crawl forward, her gear rustling against the wet grass. She signaled for Bill to cover the shed. He moved with the grace of a falling refrigerator. The figure shattered quietly. Molly did not look back. She reached the sliding glass door. It was a standard child-proof latch. She produced a small tool and jimmied the latch. The door slid open with a smooth hiss of rubber seals against the frame. Inside, the chaos of the party aftermath awaited them fully. Tables were draped in sticky cloths. Chairs were overturned. A piñata hung from the ceiling, decapitated and empty. Is it clear to enter now. Clear. Just grab the big boxes near the tree. What about the greeting cards on the table. Cash goes in the bag. Cards stay there. Roger that. I am loading the sack now. Did you get the laptop. Yes. It is in the bag. Bill entered behind her. It was a fortress of cardboard. Molly started loading her sack. Bill picked up a dollhouse. Molly slapped his hand away. They moved quickly. The job was too easy. A light flicked on upstairs. A voice called out. The floorboards creaked under their heavy tactical boots as they navigated the minefield of toys. Molly ignored the Lego sets in favor of the larger boxes. Bill hesitated as if checking the weight for value. Daddy. Is that you out there. Run. They sprinted into the night, sacks thumping against their sides, leaving behind a trail of shredded wrapping paper.