Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFF70BK5CG0NQ72EJVBJ2JK

Bill flattened himself against the side of Gary Henderson's minivan, adjusting his black ski mask for the ninth time in two minutes. Through the hedge, he could see the backyard — a wasteland of pink and blue streamers, a deflating bounce house, and a table groaning under the weight of wrapped packages. "There it is," he whispered. "Christmas in June." Molly crouched beside him, her duffel bag already unzipped and ready. She studied the terrain with the intensity of a four-star general. The enemy forces — approximately fifteen six-year-olds — were currently gathered around a magician who kept pulling the same scarf from behind his ear. "How many gifts?" she asked. "Forty-two. I counted twice." "You counted wrong. There's forty-three." She pointed to a suspiciously placed box near the barbecue grill. "Amateur." Bill felt his pride sting. "What's the plan?" Molly produced a crude hand-drawn map from her back pocket. "You create a distraction. I go in through the kitchen. We meet at the slide." "What kind of distraction?" Her eyes gleamed with dangerous enthusiasm. "You're going to tell the kids there's cake in the garage." Bill winced. "They'll stampede." "Exactly."