Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFJN244XQEKXXDP5NQSFSA2

The late May sun glinted off the neon pink bouncy castle inflated across the cul-de-sac, and Molly and Bill huddled behind an overgrown rose bush that kept sticking thorns through Bill’s ratty hoodie, their crumpled heist notes peeking out of Molly’s fanny pack. A clown juggling beach balls glanced their way for half a second before going back to entertaining a swarm of screaming seven-year-olds, and Molly jabbed Bill in the ribs to shut him up before he could yelp about another thorn. “Ow, son of a bitch, this bush is personally attacking me. Why couldn’t we hide behind a minivan like normal thieves? Or a bush that doesn’t want to saw my ear off?” Bill hissed, plucking a thorn from his earlobe and flicking it into the street. “Keep it down, you lunatic, that clown’s got eyes like a hawk. And we picked this bush because it’s the only spot that doesn’t line up with Lila’s bedroom window—she’s got a unicorn telescope that can spot a Cheeto crumb from three blocks away. I wrote that on the prep sheet, remember?” Molly whispered, leaning around the bush to squint at the stack of wrapped presents piled by the back porch. “Your prep sheet’s mostly doodles of cake with a goatee, I can’t tell logistics apart from dessert plans. Wait a second—we’re stealing from a seven-year-old’s birthday? Last heist we swiped a case of protein powder from a gym guy who kicked a puppy. This is… there’s a mermaid piñata over there. What is wrong with us?” “Relax, they’re all regifted. Half those presents have the old mall sticker from when I bought them for my own birthday. Lila’s mom is my cousin, she stole my presents three years running when we were kids. Once she sold my limited edition Bratz with the working mini CD player at a yard sale for five bucks. This is restitution. Karmic heist.” Molly pulled two neon lanyards that said EVENT STAFF out of her fanny pack, tossing one to Bill. “Restitution my ass, you just want the 1000-piece Lego castle I saw you ogle on the kitchen counter. What’s our exit plan, anyway? We just stuff a hundred LOL dolls into a backpack and walk out? What if someone asks who we are?” “Duh, we’re here to refill the snack table. I even brought a fake cooler of lemonade. And the Lego’s a bonus, but first we grab the silver jewelry box her grandma got her—worth enough to cover rent for three months. And the five-foot stuffed sloth by the presents. I want that for my couch.” Bill snickered, tying his lanyard around his neck and hefting the fake cooler. “You’re a literal monster. Pass me a slice of cake before we leave, though. If we’re gonna be terrible people, we might as well get a good tier of it.” Molly shoved him forward, both of them creeping across the lawn as the clown turned his back to juggle for a new crowd of kids, the thud of the bouncy castle covering the sound of their sneakers on the grass, the first wave of their terrible heist officially underway.