Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBDZ1GBGKV8ADGM4XSQYHJ9

Molly adjusted the binoculars, peering through the rain-slicked hedge. Rain dripped from her nose. The house lights flickered inside. They stood in the shadows of the old oak tree. "The layout is tighter than we thought, Bill. Look at that gate." "I see it. The latch is rusted. Perfect for us." Bill shivered, clutching his clipboard tightly. "Are we sure? It’s a birthday party. They have cake. They have parents." "Parents are the easy part. Kids are the hard part. They scream if you touch their plastic dinosaurs. They scream if you look at them wrong." "Right. The security system. I mapped it out. It’s a smart lock on the front door, but the back window has a motion sensor blinking for three days. It looks aggressive." "So we don’t go through the window. We go through the cake." "The cake is not a door, Molly." "Metaphorically, yes. We distract them with balloons. Kids love them. They forget you're in the room entirely." "I don’t think distracting them with helium is a valid security override, Molly." "Okay, fine. We use the tunnel. The one under the sandbox." Bill sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. "The sandbox? Again? The sandbox is where they bury the treasure. And the poop. Do you really want to crawl through sand for a loot bag?" "Think of the loot, Bill. Legos. Action figures. Maybe a real robot vacuum. We sell those for good money." "What if the parents come home early? We saw the mom looking at her watch every five minutes." "That’s a risk. Or do we wait for the second party? The one next week?" "The second party is for toddlers. No valuable goods. Mostly rubber ducks. Ducks don't sell on eBay. They depreciate." "You sound like a pessimist." "I sound like a professional. We need a distraction." "I’ll be the distraction." Molly smirked, leaning back against the wet brick wall. "I’ll start a conga line." "A conga line?" Bill stared at her. "On a suburban lawn? At 3 PM? In the rain?" "Exactly. Nobody expects a conga line. It’s chaotic. It’s loud. They won't know where to look." "And if someone calls the police for public indecency?" "I’ll wear a unicorn horn. It’s legally protected. It’s a costume." Bill rubbed his temples. "You know the rule. No violence. No animals harmed. No property damage." "I don't plan on hurting the inflatable clown." "That’s damage. The clown represents a significant asset. He’s expensive." "He’s inflatable. He doesn't have feelings." "He might have a warranty. Warranties are tricky." "Fine. We take the door. Quietly. I have the key card from the neighbor's dog walker." "You stole the key card from a dog walker?" "It was on a hook, Bill. Unattended. It felt free." "Okay, we go in. We grab the presents. We leave before the frosting is cut." "And if they see us?" "Tell them we’re the entertainment. We do magic tricks." "You can't do magic tricks, Molly. You burn toast." "It’s a metaphor. I burn toast. Therefore, I can create illusions of fire. Thermal manipulation." Bill stared at her, eyes narrowing. "You’re insane." "I’m ambitious. Now, are you ready or are we waiting for a better offer?" "I’m ready. But if I’m going to jail, I’m suing you." "Deal. Now, hand me the ladder. And a bucket. For the sand."