Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFKWH427FN67ASS87YMZTRB

The backyard was illuminated by the glow of paper lanterns strung between oak trees, the sound of children screaming and plastic swords clashing echoing from inside the house. Molly crouched behind a hedge, adjusting the straps of her black cat-burglar suit that was completely impractical for a Tuesday night. "The intel was wrong," she hissed, watching a six-year-old in a dinosaur costume chase a balloon. "There are至少 fifty potential witnesses in there." Bill, perched uncomfortably in a lilac tree, checked his watch. "The party ends at 8:30. Parents will be arriving with minivans and low blood sugar. That's our window." "Our window for what? Grand theft toy?" Molly pulled out a tiny notepad. "I have the list. Ten action figures, three dollhouses, a robot that apparently does backflips, and a 'Mega-Track Turbo Rally' set." "It's not about the toys, Mol. It's about the principle." Bill dropped down beside her, landing with a grunt. "My nephew got one of those robot things. It sang 'Baby Shark' for seventy-two consecutive hours. This is a public service." "Since when do we do public service? We stole a statue from a museum last week." "That statue was ugly. And it had a plaque about the importance of civic virtue. Very hypocritical." Bill pulled out a blueprint of the house, drawn on the back of a children's menu from a pizza place. "Now, the presents are in the sunroom, adjacent to the kitchen. The kitchen is the weak point." Molly examined the blueprint. "You've labeled the fridge as 'Potential Snack Cache (High Priority).' We're not here for snacks." "I'm a stress-eater. It's tactical." He pointed. "There's a doggy door. I'll go through there." "You're a forty-seven-year-old man with a bum knee." "It's a big doggy door." "And I'm supposed to... what? Create a diversion?" "You're the distraction specialist. Distract." From inside, a child's voice shrieked, "I WANT MORE JUICE!" "See?" Bill nudged her. "Chaos. Perfect cover." Molly sighed. "I'll need the costume." "Which costume?" She gestured to a plastic tub near the door labeled 'DRESS-UP BIN.' Inside was a frayed princess gown and a foam crown that was slowly disintegrating. "No." "Mol, we agreed. The plan is sound." "The plan has me in a sequined dress and tiara, pretending to be a late-arriving relative, while you army-crawl through a dog flap." "It's elegant in its simplicity." A small child wandered over to their hedge, staring. "Are you guys playing hide-and-seek?" Molly froze. "Uh. Yes." "I'm really good at it!" The child beamed. "I found Grandpa behind the curtains in like two seconds." "That's... impressive," Bill said. "You should play too! The game is starting in two minutes!" Bill and Molly exchanged a look. "New plan," Molly whispered. "We join the game. We use the children as cover. We blend. Then, during the chaos of 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey,' we make our move." "So I'm not going through the doggy door?" "You are not going through the doggy door." The child tugged Molly's sleeve. "Are you a princess?" Molly looked down at the ridiculous gown in her hands. She looked at the house full of screaming children and presents. She looked at Bill, who was already starting to wheeze with suppressed laughter. "I am now," she said, and pulled the foam crown onto her head. "Lead the way, soldier."