Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK99B8XC2QAXJCHYMB2QK7P

Molly and Bill crouched behind a rabbit-shaped topiary, practicing nonchalance like pickpockets at a bake sale. The hall across the lawn fizzed with balloons, streamers, and a banner yelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY in confetti. Molly consulted a notebook nabbed from the coloring aisle; their blueprint was a rectangle labeled Joy Box, arrows all directions, plus a raccoon in shades. Bill adjusted a paper crown tilting like a guilty halo. Children whooped inside, the sound of stampeding cupcakes. Molly said, "We steal joyfully, not loudly." Bill practiced a smile so wholesome it needed permits. Confetti clung to their elbows like glittery guilt. He produced name tags: Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin Misplaced. They rehearsed cover stories: deliverer of napkins, balloon morale officer, emergency piñata consultant. Bill murmured, "Balloons are guards with alibis." Molly flipped a coin that proved chocolate, then ate the evidence, declaring omens favorable. A breeze carried frosting and absolution. They synchronized watches, which were actually friendship bracelets with clocks drawn on. Molly whispered, "Remember the cake camouflage plan." Bill unfolded a tote bag the size of modest philosophy, then gazed at Mount Giftmore, wrapped, ribboned, irresistible. Bill grinned, "Pockets ready, smiles set, innocent." The topiary sneezed tinsel, and both thieves.