Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WS5C317BTG24Y4XHR2G4Y

Molly pressed her face against the chain-link fence, watching six-year-olds tear across the backyard like sugared-up velociraptors. A mountain of wrapped presents glittered on a folding table near the bounce house. "There's our score," she whispered. "Has to be five hundred dollars on that table, easy." Bill raised his taped-together binoculars. "I count fifteen, maybe twenty boxes. Could be anything in there. LEGOs, gift cards, maybe one of those robot dogs that do backflips." "Robot dogs retail for eighty bucks. We grab everything and sort later." "What about the clown?" Bill asked, nodding toward a man in oversized shoes twisting balloon animals by the gate. "Clowns are wildly unpredictable. We avoid him entirely." "Agreed. I've had terrible experiences with clowns." Molly unrolled a hand-drawn blueprint on the hood of their dented minivan. She'd sketched the yard in crayon, which was all they could afford after the last job went sideways. "You slip in through the side gate during the piñata. Every kid will be blindfolded or distracted by falling candy." "Brilliant," Bill said, grinning. "What's my disguise?" Molly reached into the backseat and produced a tiny princess tiara. "You cannot be serious." "Put it on, Bill."