Run: 2026-03-09-01KKABZ7F0T20609SMS1F1HB45

Molly crouched behind the garden shed, dressed in black except for the unicorn socks she insisted were lucky. Bill, beside her, wore a burglar’s cap and a birthday hat stolen from the hedge. Beyond the fence, the children’s party raged with chaos: balloons bobbed like surveillance drones, a clown made balloon swords, and a magician was losing an argument with a rabbit. “In, grab gifts, avoid cake, and don’t make eye contact,” Molly whispered. “Fine, but if the clown sees me, I’m taking hostages,” Bill murmured. They studied the target: a trestle table groaning under wrapped boxes, gift bags, and one large stuffed giraffe. The parents were distracted by cake logistics, diplomacy, and a dispute over who had licked the inflatable castle. Bill produced a crayon drawing of the yard. His arrows were wild; his labels included SNACK ZONE, DOG??, and POSSIBLE NANA. Molly nodded like she was briefing commandos instead of a man who had been defeated by a revolving door. Then the dog appeared, tiny and furious, wearing a bow tie. Bill blanched. Molly grinned. Every crime, she thought, began with underestimating the security. Unfortunately, security was now barking at his ankles and summoning every witness nearby loudly.