Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFF23M25S6MZCMTN2Y843HH

They huddled behind a leggy hydrangea bush at the edge of the suburban cul-de-sac, neon unicorn piñata glow painting their ski masks cotton candy pink, Molly twisting a crumpled 7-year-old’s birthday invitation in her gloved hand. “Molly, this is the worst heist we’ve ever pulled. Last month we swiped a grandma’s prize peach jams, this is kids’ birthday presents. What if we get tackled by a dad wielding a lawn dart?” Bill hissed, ducking as a terrier trotted past. “Lawn darts are banned, dipshit, you’re stuck in 1987. That giant talking squishmallow by the gift table? $350 on Facebook Marketplace. The Lego Millennium Falcon? That’s my vacation fund.” “Vacation fund? We’re 27! What if the birthday kid cries? I still panic when I see a toddler throw a goldfish cracker fit.” “We’re not monsters, we leave the macaroni necklaces. Those are cursed. Wait, the piñata wrangler’s herding everyone inside for cake—that’s our window.” “Wait, do I have to carry all the presents? My back’s still tweaked from hauling that grandma’s 5-gallon pickle jar last month.”