Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WNY07MAH6HZ8WB01MCSAM

Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the dashboard, which appeared to be crayon on construction paper. She had stolen it from the birthday boy's cubby at preschool, and it smelled faintly of juice boxes. "The bounce house is here," she said, tapping a purple blob. "That's our primary obstacle. Kids go feral in those things." Bill squinted at the map and turned it upside down. He was wearing all black, which seemed excessive for a Tuesday afternoon in the suburbs. "What about the clown?" he asked. "The clown is a wildcard. We avoid the clown at all costs." Bill nodded slowly, cracking his knuckles with the gravity of a man about to defuse a bomb rather than rob a six-year-old. "I'll create a distraction near the cake table," he said. "You grab the presents from the folding table by the fence." "And if the mother spots us?" "We tell her we're from the balloon company." Molly pulled two helium tanks from the backseat, grinning with the pride of someone who had thought of everything. The party started in twenty minutes. Somewhere inside that backyard sat a mountain of wrapped gifts just begging to be liberated. "Let's go steal from some children," she whispered.