Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFD3G12GC07HC5RNMG13ZPR

They hunkered behind an overgrown hydrangea bush three yards from the split-level ranch’s back deck, the acrid tang of burnt hot dogs drifting over to sting their eyes. A sparkly unicorn piñata swung from the eaves, and a pack of screaming seven-year-olds chased a chihuahua in a princess dress across the lawn. Bill crushed a dandelion under his scuffed sneaker, and Molly elbowed him hard in the ribs to shut him up before he blew their cover. “Quit fidgeting, you absolute walnut,” Molly hissed, patting the fanny pack slung around her waist like it held C4 instead of half a pack of peanut butter crackers and a stolen gift bag. “Mrs. Henderson’s got a taser for uninvited party crashers her neighbor posted on Nextdoor last month, and I am not getting tased over you stepping on a caterpillar.” “Why we gotta hit a kids’ party anyway?” Bill whined, yanking his hood up further like the sun was a security camera. “Last heist we pulled was that pop-up designer bag sale, we got three Fendis. This is just stealing LOL dolls and slime kits. I had a slime kit stick to my couch last year, that stuff’s a biohazard. CPS should classify it as a weapon.” “We didn’t get Fendis, you numbskull,” Molly snapped, nodding at the stack of unopened presents piled by the back door, topped by a giant rainbow unicorn box that glinted under string lights. “You got scammed by a 16-year-old on TikTok selling grocery tote bags with logos printed on. Those presents have receipts taped to every last one—we can return ’em to Target for cold hard cash. That Switch in the unicorn box alone pays our rent for two months.” “Wait, what about the clown?” Bill said, pointing at a polka-dot clad man hauling cupcakes out of the kitchen. “What if he’s ex-military? Clowns are all ex-military, I saw a documentary. They know how to take down intruders.” “That’s not a clown, that’s the dad, he lost a Super Bowl bet,” Molly rolled her eyes. “The only security we gotta worry about is the grandma napping by the present table. Her glasses fell into her lemonade ten minutes ago, she couldn’t spot a rhino in her living room.” “Wait, what’s the escape plan?” Bill hissed, panicking. “Last time you forgot the escape plan and we hid in a Dollar General dumpster for three hours. I still have Cheeto dust in my hair from that.” “Simple,” Molly said, grinning as the birthday girl veered toward their bush. “I distract her by yelling the chihuahua ate her extra cupcake, you grab the presents, we bolt for the minivan. Gone in 90 seconds.” Before Bill could protest, a shadow loomed over the hydrangea. A croaky voice called out, “You two want a popsicle? I got extra cherry.” They both froze, ducking so far down their heads smacked the damp dirt, Molly’s fanny pack spilling her peanut butter crackers into the grass.