Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBKRRDR7CKN985DE447JKBG

Molly adjusted her wig while Bill sharpened a small big plastic spoon against the brick wall. The noise was barely audible over the very distant hum of the party nearby. "Is that legal?" she asked. "It's a spork." Bill corrected. "Utility over law." Molly peered through the bright window. Balloon animals hung from the porch like colorful ghosts. She saw the mound of presents beneath the tree. "The birthday boy is seven. He gets a hundred presents," she whispered softly. "Perfect. We take the loot." "What about the cake?" "Edible evidence. Too risky." Bill checked his watch. "The clown leaves at eight. We go then." "Isn't that loud?" "Chaos is our cover. People never hear the squeak of rubber gloves during children." Molly nodded. "I'll be the ice cream lady." "I'll be the fireman." "Why a fireman?" "I panic. Fits disguise." Bill stood up, brushing crumbs from his velvet shoulder. "Remember, no crying babies. They trigger the silent alarm." "What alarm?" "The one in the mother's purse. She hates it." Molly grinned. "Let's steal some joy." Bill opened the back door. "After you." They stepped quickly into the empty dark yard together, ready to grab all the gifts very quietly.