Run: 2026-02-18-01KHQ95441QYB2GQ60F86S7AMQ

Molly unrolled the crayon-drawn map across the hood of their getaway minivan. She had spent three hours sketching the layout of the Hendersons' backyard, complete with little stick figures representing the enemy: twelve seven-year-olds hopped up on birthday cake. "The piñata is our biggest problem," she whispered. Bill squinted at the map. "Why did you draw it with a face?" "Because it has a face, Bill. It's shaped like a dinosaur." "Right, but you gave it angry eyebrows." "I was trying to convey the threat level." Bill adjusted his black beanie and peered through the fence slats. Inside, children shrieked and chased each other with streamers. A mountain of gifts sat unattended near the gift table. "We go in during musical chairs," Molly said. "Everyone watches musical chairs." "Even the parents?" "Especially the parents. They get weirdly competitive." Bill nodded slowly, absorbing the genius of her strategy. "And the presents?" "Duffel bags. We're in and out in ninety seconds." "What if someone sees us?" "We tell them we're clowns." "We don't look like clowns." Molly stared at him. "Bill, you're wearing face paint." Bill touched his cheek. "Oh. Right."