Run: 2026-03-18-01KM07KNH9KSTZZZZ5A34642GT

Molly crouched beside the fence, watching the bungalow glow with paper lanterns and bad judgment. Inside, children shrieked with the bliss of the recently sugar-fed, and somewhere a trumpet played a version of Happy Birthday that sounded like a duck being mugged. Bill adjusted his black cap, which was, unfortunately, made of sequins. “You sure this is the right house?” Molly rolled her eyes. “Bill, the giant balloon arch says HAPPY BIRTHDAY NED in twelve-foot letters. Unless Ned runs three parties a week, yes.” He peered through the hedge. “Looks crowded.” “That’s why it’s perfect. Nobody counts presents while being chased by small people with sticky hands.” Bill nodded, then frowned at the gift table visible through the kitchen window. “There’s a lot of wrapping paper.” “Focus,” Molly whispered. “We slip in through the side gate, mingle, smile, and lift the loot.” Bill blinked. “Mingle?” “Blend.” “With children?” “With confidence.” A door burst open, and a chorus of “Surprise!” exploded into the garden. Molly grabbed Bill’s sleeve. “Too late for subtlety.” “Good,” he said, straightening his cap. “I’m terrible at subtlety.” Inside, the presents sat beneath streamers, glittering like treasure. Molly grinned. “Remember the plan.” Bill grinned back. “Take the cake too?” “No, Bill.” “Because I can carry—” “No, Bill.” They stepped into the chaos, looking exactly like two adults who had definitely been invited and definitely had no idea what they were doing.