Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5H8G50E7FVPASAYHQ9C9R

The moon hung low over the sleepy suburban neighborhood, casting long shadows across manicured lawns. Molly adjusted the brim of her oversized hat, peering through binoculars at the brightly lit house across the street. Streamers fluttered from the porch, and a giant inflatable dinosaur bobbed in the yard with a party hat askew. Beside her, Bill scratched his stubble and frowned. "You sure about this, Molls? Feels weird stealing from a kid’s party." Molly lowered the binoculars and gave him a look. "They got, like, a thousand presents in there. You think little Timmy needs *all* of them?" "It’s Tommy." "Same difference." She folded her arms. "Besides, kids these days have iPads by age four. We’re practically doing their parents a favor—teaching ’em about loss and disappointment early." Bill sighed. "Fine. But if I see any clown-themed presents, I’m out. Clowns freak me out." Molly rolled her eyes and pulled a crumpled napkin from her pocket—a napkin she’d stolen from the same kid’s birthday cake tasting last week. She smoothed it out on the car hood. "Okay, here’s the plan. Parents are distracted by cake and screaming. We go in through the side gate<jupyter_example>, grab the loot hidden behind the bounce house, haul it back to the getaway car—which is totally inconspicuous because it’s a minivan—and boom. Retirement fund." Bill squinted at the scribbled map. "This looks like you drew it corners during a dentist appointment." "Details don’t matter." She waved a hand. "The main thing is speed. These kids open gifts faster than a Vegas blackjack dealer." A beat passed. "You ever wonder," Bill mused, staring at the house, "how many of those presents are socks?" Molly froze. "...What?" "Parents always sneak socks into gifts. We could be risking jail time for foot cozies." She groaned. "If you’re gonna have a moral crisis, do it *after* we’re rich." With a sharp jab, she pointed toward the house. "Now grab the giant gift bag—we’re gonna need it for all the loot." Bill muttered under his breath but obediently hoisted the oversized bag onto his shoulder. The two crept across the yard, ducking behind hedges and sidestepping abandoned juice boxes. The distant sound of children screaming over the Hokey Pokey masked their approach. At the fence, Molly crouched, pressing a finger to her lips. "Quick and quiet. Like ninjas. But cooler." Bill nodded—just as a rogue balloon popped under his boot. Both froze. Inside, the music paused. "...Did you hear something?" came a muffled adult voice. Molly grabbed Bill’s sleeve and yanked him behind a bush. After a tense moment, the party noise resumed. She exhaled. "Smooth," Bill deadpanned. She scowled. "Just grab the presents before I reconsider partners可控的抽样策略