Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1HH7DJVETFYSRNG3BNDNB6

Molly crouched behind the garden shed, studying the battlefield of bunting, balloons, and sugar-fueled chaos beyond the fence. A papier-mâché dragon lolled over the gate like a drunk sentry, while inside, a clown in giant shoes lost an argument with a bubble machine. Bill, wedged beside her in a shrub that smelled aggressively of cat, adjusted his flat cap and peered through the leaves at the gift table glittering under a striped gazebo. “Easy pickings,” Molly whispered. “Terrifying pickings,” Bill muttered. Children tore across the lawn with the blind conviction of tiny cavalry. One pirate boy brandished a foam sword at a princess wearing face paint like war stripes. Near the cake, a woman in a sequined sash wrestled party bags into submission, while a magician produced handkerchiefs and the occasional look of private despair. Molly unfolded a crayon-scribbled map. Entry through the side gate, cross behind the Punch and Judy booth, lift the presents, vanish before the candles were lit. Elegant, swift, almost respectable. Bill eyed the clown, now pursuing a runaway sausage dog in a tutu. “If we survive the entertainment, we deserve the loot.” A shriek rose as the dragon split open and showered sweets everywhere. Instantly the lawn dissolved into a stampede. Molly grinned. Chaos, she believed, was simply opportunity wearing a party hat.