Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAD64B2PGH3FFHN3ZY1T4A

Backyard, sun dappling balloons that sagged like deflated sighs. A clown’s red nose twitched as he chased a toddler, who wailed over a stolen lollipop; a pomeranian napped on a toy bone nearby, snoring. Molly leaned against a shed, nails picking splinters, eyeing presents: a teddy with one ear, a “Superheroes” box (stickers, not the real stuff), a glittery wrap that oozed. “Piñata’s empty,” she said, nodding at the paper cow by the grill, its stick lying forgotten. Bill, in a too-small suit, fumbled with a lollipop, crumpling the wrapper. “Walkie-talkie.” She nodded at the picnic table, where gifts sagged, tape flaking. “Squeeze the boxes—something heavy, not toys.” He flexed gloved hands, leaving lint on a balloon. “Dog?” “Belt’s loose. Clasp looks like a key,” Molly said, snorting. He pointed to an aluminum ladder by the shed. “Bends easy. Jenkins’—he bends over when he talks, too.” Bill paused, then held up the lollipop. “But candy? The piñata’s full.” She grinned. “Take the piñata, presents, and his hat. No candy—pride. We’re thieves, not monsters.” He saluted. “Pride first.” She smirked. “Lift his belt. Fast.”