Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAC9EYYXFBEGFVH70CJ01Z

Molly and Bill crouched behind the inflatable flamingo by the driveway, sharing a single stolen cupcake wrapper like it was a tactical map. The neighborhood smelled of frosting and grass and regret. Through the window they could see balloons bobbing, a banner declaring HAPPY FIFTH BIRTHDAY TIMMY, and a battalion of parents resembling stealthy sentries with wine glasses. Molly traced the sill with one gloved finger and whispered plans like a poet of petty crime. Bill rolled his eyes, checked his rubber gloves, and adjusted the slinky in his pocket as if it were a ceremonial artifact. They had practiced this caper on a couch with a TV show playing and now the rehearsal met the real thing at a cul de sac that smelled faintly of bubble solution and ambition. Molly consulted her pocket notepad, which contained diagrams, doodles, and an arrow labelled "slide down ramp here." Bill said they should go for the pile by the tree, because it was usually chaotic and therefore morally ambiguous. Molly insisted on the presents wrapped in dinosaur paper; Bill wanted the glitter ones because glitter was hard to erase. The plan required timing, courage, and a tiny pair of bolt cutters disguised as a cheese grater. A distant child laughed like a musical alarm. They both smiled, practiced their apologetic faces, and moved when the hostess turned to take a selfie. Molly mouthed the word 'now' like an incantation; Bill licked his finger and checked the wind and counted to three. "Molly: Three, two, one — glide. Grab the dinosaur, avoid the glitter, ignore the puppet in the corner, smile like you've seen nothing and feign interest" "Bill: If a parent asks, we're just helping with the piñata logistics; hand them a juice box and apologize profusely for our tiny fingers please" "Molly: Don't be sentimental about wrapping paper. Remember last year with the flamingo tutu? No one needed that tutu, especially not the flamingo or feathers" "Bill: I kept a glitter sample in my pocket for morale; it was a mistake and now my shoelaces are tiny sparkling crimes against footwear" "Molly: Window two o'clock has a sticker that says 'No adults on the bouncy castle' which charmingly applies to both our ethics and ankle strength" "Bill: We stick to presents only. No cake, no Piñata intestines, and absolutely no trying the half-eaten cupcakes of suspicious composition in public ever please" "Molly: What if Timmy catches us? He'll tell his parents, and then they'll tell everyone, and then our neighbor Carol will hold an intervention today" "Bill: Then we'll explain it's performance art about consumerism and childhood chaos; they'll nod, and either applaud or call the police, both valid outcomes honestly" "Molly: Focus. Find the stash under the tablecloth by the punch bowl. If there's a glitter bomb, we surrender and become glitter diplomats with hats" "Bill: After that we vanish into the shrubbery with presents, leaving only the scent of cupcakes and two perfectly reasonable explanations for missing toys today"