Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBH68BPR1RDXY00CPT4MHB8

Molly crouched low, her knee cracking against the damp pavement as she peered through the thick, overgrown ivy. Inside, the golden glow of living room sconces spilled onto the lawn, illuminating a plastic flamingo that looked deeply offended by the intrusion. Bill shifted his weight, the gravel crunching loudly beneath his heavy tactical boots. He wore a black ski mask over a red clown nose that kept slipping down his forehead. They waited in the silence of the suburban night, breathing hard in anticipation of the heist. "The van is ready?" Molly asked. "Just in the back," Bill said. "Engine running." "Good. Keep it cold." "Right." "You seeing this?" Molly whispered. "Checking the perimeter," Bill mumbled. "What if there are cameras?" "No cameras. There's a retriever who sleeps through thunderstorms." Molly tapped her earpiece. "Once the cake hits the table, we move." "And the timing?" Bill squinted. "Mom cuts the frosting. We hit at the second slice. Grab the large gifts first. The big boxes hide the consoles." Molly checked her watch. "What about the ones wrapped already?" Bill asked. "Leave them. Too much noise. The crinkle is a giveaway." Molly grinned. "We go for the unopened treasures." "What about the cash in the piggy bank?" "It's not cash. It's plastic coins. We leave it. We are thieves, not thieves of piggy banks." "Right. eBay." Bill adjusted his backpack straps. "Do we have a contingency if the dog wakes up?" "We play dead." Molly stood up, brushing off her knees. "We roll. We don't walk. We are the shadow." "Shadow thief," Bill said. "Sounds like a superhero." "Don't call it that. It's a tactical gift retrieval mission." Molly looked back at the house. "Right. Tactical." Bill whispered. "I still think we should ask for one back. Maybe leave a card." "We are professionals. We don't ask. We take. It's the law of the thief." Molly stepped closer to the window. "Okay, okay." Bill raised his hands. "Just asking. Sorry." "Quiet." Molly pointed suddenly. "The lights flickered. That's the signal from the cake." "That was just the fridge door closing," Bill said. "Then it's time." Molly cracked her knuckles. "On three. One, two—" "Wait, the car is right there." Bill pointed to the blue sedan. "That belongs to the host family." "Perfect. Cover story is the car needs fuel. Go. Move out. Grab the tree." "You're coming with me?" Bill asked. "Always." Molly stepped into the shadows. "Let's rob a birthday."