Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1HZY3F8R83DZ5VZ9KG6XDB

The night was unusually quiet in the suburban cul‑de‑sac, the kind of silence that made the streetlights look like stage spotlights. Molly leaned against the rusted fence, a half‑eaten donut in one hand and a clipboard of crayon schematics in the other. Bill perched on the low wall opposite, fidgeting with a plastic party hat he had stolen from a previous job. The target was a birthday bash at the Johnsons’ house, a room filled with balloons, a dinosaur cake, and a mountain of wrapped gifts glimmering under flickering fairy lights. They had scoped the place earlier, noting two adult chaperones, a neighbor’s dog that barked at every footstep, and the kids’ endless energy. Their plan was simple: slip in through the back door, grab the presents, and disappear before the “Happy Birthday” song started. But as thieves, they liked to add a little flair to the execution. Molly: Okay, Bill, the kids will be distracted by the clown, giving us a window before the cake is cut. Bill: Ten minutes? That's a lifetime for a thief who can't even tie his shoes without tripping. Molly: Focus. The back door is unlocked—Mrs. Johnson left the key on kitchen table when she went to the bathroom. Bill: The dog? That mutt barks at the slightest rustle. Molly: I've got a squeaky toy that will keep him busy for three minutes. Then we slip in. Bill: Three minutes? I was hoping for at least five. What about the chaperones? Molly: One is in the kitchen, the other in the living room, glued to their phones scrolling through memes. Bill: Memes? Kids these days are more into cat videos than actual party fun. Molly: Which is why the cake is shaped like a dinosaur—expects a T‑Rex to be edible. Bill: Do we have a bag big enough for all the wrapped gifts? Molly: I stole a reusable tote last week; it folds compactly and can hold a mountain of presents. Bill: And the security camera above the hallway? Molly: Disabled it with a cheap EMP gadget; it’ll be blind for fifteen minutes. Bill: Fifteen minutes? That’s generous. What if the kids start a conga line early? Molly: Then we join them, dance to the gift table, and grab boxes while they’re distracted. Bill: I can picture it—Molly in a glittery hat, Bill doing the robot. Classic. Molly: Keep your eyes on the biggest present under the red balloon. It’s the perfect cover. Bill: The kids will think it’s a magic trick. Molly: If they ask, we’ll claim the presents vanished because we’re the “Great Gift Ghosts.” Bill: Do we have an alibi? Molly: We’ll say we were at the karaoke bar belting “Happy Birthday” at the top of our lungs. Bill: Got it. I’ll bring extra gloves in case the gifts are sticky. Molly: Bring the tote, squeaky toy, and EMP. Meet me at the back gate at 7:45. Bill: Perfect. This will be the most ridiculous heist ever.