Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9MQZTEQ5MQ6HZ7XA0H535

Bill: The giggle-factor is high, loot is higher, trust me tonight, okay Molly. Molly: Relax, we’ve rehearsed this like a second job and a lullaby. Molly: Doorway to the party is guarded by cupcakes and bouncy castles. Bill: Then we wheel in stealth and smiles. Molly: I’ll distract the crowd with a sneeze and sparkler. Bill: You sneeze, I grab, vanish into night. Molly: Balloons become getaway confetti tonight, confusing the security mice. Bill: Remember rules: no crying or happiness. Molly: If trouble, we improvise with flair and signatures later. Bill: Okay, hit the presents, ignore hats and snooze security. Night pooled over the cul-de-sac as Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge, listening to distant squeals of laughter and the squeak of a karaoke machine. A banner advertised a children's party, bright as a peppermint parade. They studied a map drawn on a crumpled napkin: kitchen, pantry, gift table, back staircase. Bill flicked a flashlight on and off, like a cautious firefly. A custard-colored moon watched. Molly peered at the fence, imagining the glory of piles of wrapped presents, ribbons fluttering. They joked softly, polished their disguises with oversized sunglasses and a shrug. Night smelled of cookies and mischief.