Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9RD3MKQ9FSMBBFSNH5K55

Night wrapped the cul-de-sac in a velvet shrug. Molly crouched by a hydrangea, a party hat perched on her head like a ridiculous crown, and grinned at the paper lantern glow leaking from the Johnsons' living room window. Bill adjusted his tiny backpack — the one with cartoon rockets — as if he were trying to look less like a professional thief and more like a wayward substitute parent. The sidewalk smelled faintly of sugar and cut grass, and somewhere inside a stereo someone was learning the Macarena with surprising enthusiasm. They had rehearsed this: routes, decoy pets, the exact number of balloons required to distract a suspicious adult. They had a map made of sticky notes and a bargaining plan for the inevitable parental interrogation. There would be crumbs, a strategically placed rubber duck, and a diversion involving a confetti cannon and a borrowed trombone. Molly traced a finger over a square of sidewalk chalk, marking the spot where she would perform a dramatic belly flop into a kiddie pool to create the spectacle. It was ridiculous, and that was precisely the point. They were artists of misdirection, curators of chaos, and tonight's gallery included cupcakes and glitter. Bill whispered that his knees ached and that he had a soft spot for fluffy cakes, but his face betrayed the thrill. Molly counted the windows again and imagined sacks bulging with ribbons and stickers and that particular remote-control car that always looked like a tiny political scandal. They smirked knowingly. Molly: "Okay, operation Santa Heist is go. We enter through the garage, distract with cake, exit with loot." Bill: "Garage has Captain, a golden retriever. He likes licking. Cake diversion still?" Molly: "Yes. Cupcakes with a squeaky toy hidden in one. Chaos equals cupcake consumption." Bill: "Do we have a squeaky toy? My bag carries a squeaky pig and two bandages." Molly: "Perfect. Bandage for concerned aunt, pig for Captain, elbow theatrics optional." Bill: "Wrapping plan?" Molly: "We wear custom gift bags with armholes. We look like modern art presents." Bill: "Timing is everything. Candles blow, chorus sings, photo flash, blackout." Molly: "During blackout we swap piles. Replace presents with identical weight boxes full of socks." Bill: "Socks are boring. Children cry, adults console, we leave with remote cars and tiny rockets." Molly: "No rockets. Confetti biodegradable and theatrical. Subtle glitter ban." Bill: "Exit: toddler parade confusion, parental coat closet diversion, slide out back gate." Molly: "If Captain sniffs, deploy squeaky pig then offer cupcake. If Aunt questions, enact faint." Bill: "If Aunt faints too, claim mutual fainting from politeness and run." Molly: "Deal. Five minute window, two backpacks, one trombone, infinite audacity." Bill: "Infinite audacity confirmed. Let's rob politely." Molly: "Getaway?" Bill: "Bicycle tandem with basket, decorated like a clown has dibs. Or scooter disguised as a giant present." Molly: "Tandem plus scooter, double confusion. Leave calling card: a tiny sticker shaped like a suspicious sloth." Bill: "Sloth sticker is perfect. Slap it, sprint, and I'll buy cookies later."