Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYANGPY3B1TWCK9V4MB1VM6

The neon glow of the party store’s *Kids’ Carnival* sign flickered like a dying firefly as Molly adjusted her oversized clown wig, the elastic digging into her temples. She’d stolen it from a carnival last week—along with three bags of cotton candy, but that was another story. Bill, perched on the fire escape across the alley, kicked his feet against the brick wall, sending a shower of loose mortar raining down onto the dumpster below. He waved a single finger in the air, counting down the seconds like he was about to drop a bomb instead of a lockpick. Inside, the shrieks of delighted children echoed through the thin walls, their laughter bouncing off the stacks of wrapped presents like pinballs. Molly’s stomach twisted—she hated kids, but she *loved* their parents’ blind trust in wrapping paper. The security system was a joke: a motion sensor that would probably trigger if a butterfly sneezed, and a guard who dozed in his chair like a sleep-deprived sloth. Bill had already disabled the cameras with a well-placed EMP pen (stolen from a tech convention, because of *course* he had one). She crouched by the back door, her gloved fingers brushing the deadbolt. “You sure this’ll work?” she muttered, more to herself than him. Bill didn’t look up from his phone, where he was scrolling through a list titled *Worst Parent Ever Gifts*. “If it doesn’t, we’ll just tell them it was the Tooth Fairy’s *very* aggressive intern.” Molly exhaled through her nose, the wig itching worse by the second. The lock clicked. She grinned. “Alright, let’s go ruin some people’s holidays.”