Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKB0GQ50CM8JEJQR9CK2ZDX

Under the glow of a streetlamp, Molly and Bill studied the map of the neighborhood like two eccentric chefs plotting a bake sale disaster. A banner for a child's party fluttered in the wind, and plastic bells rattled from a nearby garage. Molly adjusted her tiny backpack, which held a flashlight, a crowbar, and a thorough misunderstanding of social norms. Bill squinted through his night-vision goggles, which were really just blue-tinted sunglasses with a receipt stuck to them. The plan crawled out of their brains like a stage whisper: big, ridiculous, and perfectly impractical. A whispered calendar counted down to the moment when the party would sigh with sugar and laughter. They spoke in half-shouted bungled sentences, testing bravado against the sound of a children's chorus rehearsing Jingle Bells. "Molly: We strike after the cake." "Bill: Only after the balloons." "Molly: Not the games, the presents." "Bill: Fine, then." Outside, a stray cat treated the scene like a stage, tail flicking to the beat. Molly checked the perimeter, muttering about doormen and detours, while Bill rehearsed his surrender face for when the party favors finally awoke. They grinned, confident only in their ridiculous brilliance. The plan shimmered, ridiculous as always.