Run: 2026-03-09-01KK9QD4Y82D56BHF2HAKMDZJC

Molly and Bill crouched behind the hedge outside Number Twelve, where balloons wagged above the fence like nosy parrots. Bill studied a map drawn in purple crayon on the back of a pirate invitation. Molly adjusted her sequined balaclava and listened to the shrieks within: a magician heckled by toddlers, a clown inflating something legally suspicious, a mother shouting about dietary frosting. On the patio, a mountain of presents glittered beside the cake table, undefended except by a papier-mâché dinosaur. Bill licked his thumb, flattened the map, and assumed the grave expression of a man about to burgle joy itself. “Remember, smile kindly, grab gifts quickly, and never insult grandparents.” “Why would I insult grandparents? They carry emergency butterscotch supplies.” “We enter as magicians, distract the clown, and raid everything.” “I refuse rabbits, capes, and cards; they undermine professionalism entirely.” “Then juggle sausage rolls. Adults applaud anything near buffet tables.” “Fine, but the bouncy castle becomes our escape carriage tonight.” “What about the dinosaur guarding the presents by the cake?” “Paper beast, Molly. Kick ankles, not legends, if necessary, though.” “And if children spot us carrying twelve wrapped boxes outside?” “We say we’re teaching sharing, then sprint before singing starts.”