Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFFXNYGVHATPMTVK8AM3CNE

The hydrangea bush by the Henderson’s back fence pricked Molly’s neck through her hoodie, and Bill’s elbow was jammed so far into her ribs she could taste the gas station Cheetos he’d crammed for lunch. Inside the ranch house, a group of seven-year-olds shrieked as a clown in a too-tight Spider-Man shirt blasted a pop song from a Bluetooth speaker, and a unicorn piñata swayed in the breeze from the oak tree above their hiding spot. A stack of neon-wrapped presents teemed just inside the back porch, unguarded for 90 seconds so far, per Molly’s scouting. “Molly, I swear to god, this is the dumbest heist we’ve ever pulled,” Bill hissed, fumbling with the strap of his fanny pack full of bobby-pin lockpicks he’d swiped from his mom’s junk drawer. “Last month we stole a case of energy drinks from a gas station, that was dangerous but normal! This is… this is stealing from kids. What if Lila cries when she finds out her presents are gone?” “Lila’s already got a PS5 in her bedroom, I saw it through the window last week,” Molly muttered, yanking her reusable Target Save the Bees tote from between her legs and smoothing out the crumpled handles. “Those three LOL dolls and that giant cosmic slime kit are just gonna rot under her bed with the 17 other slime kits she got for Christmas. We’re doing the planet a favor, recycling perfectly good toys that would just end up in a landfill.” “Recycling!” Bill squawked, then ducked as a mom stumbled out the back door to toss an empty wine cooler into the trash, before vanishing back inside. “Recycling is what you do with plastic bottles, not birthday presents! What if the clown sees us? That guy’s got a unicycle, he can chase us down faster than any cop!” “The clown’s a college kid who owes his roommate $800 in rent, he’s too busy scrolling TikTok on his phone mid-balloon animal to spot us,” Molly said, checking the stopwatch on her phone. “Our window’s in 10 seconds. All the kids are gonna pile inside for juice and cake in 3, 2—” “Wait, what about the magician?” Bill hissed. “That guy does card tricks, he’s got eyes in the back of his head!” “Mr. Torres, Lila’s algebra teacher from the local high school, couldn’t spot a cheat sheet on a midterm, let alone two people sneaking across a backyard,” Molly said, shoving Bill forward off his haunches. “Move, our only shot to slip past the bouncy house before the kids crowd it again—” “The bouncy house! I forgot there’s a kid who spends the whole time camped out on the inflatable slide, what if he sees us?” Bill yelped, knocking a ceramic garden gnome off its base as he stumbled. It clattered, and both froze, ducking back into the hydrangeas as leaves showered over their heads. Before Molly could hiss that the kid was only five and couldn’t tell a thief from a stray cat, the back door slammed open. A high-pitched kid’s voice cut across the yard, loud enough to quiet the music inside for half a second: “Mom! There’s strangers in the bush! And they got a bee bag!”