Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08FTCACNP2A2K45BMJE88A

Molly crouched behind the hedge, peering at the twinkle-light chaos of the children’s party. Bill adjusted his tool belt with the solemnity of a librarian. Somewhere inside, a clown squealed, as if warning the neighborhood that fun was imminent. Molly whispered, “Remember, we’re stealthy. Like ninja socks.” Bill whispered, “Ninja socks don’t squeak when they kneel.” Molly hissed, “Then stop kneeling like a goose.” Bill breathed, “I’m not a goose. I’m a professional.” Molly smirked, “Professionals also know to take the gift tags off gently.” Bill whispered, “Naturally. We’ll swap them with nothing. Or… glitter.” Molly held up a roll of adhesive stars. “Glitter is sabotage.” Bill nodded. “Sabotage is the spirit of Christmas.” Molly pointed at the open patio door. “See? The cookie table is the perfect distraction.” Bill grinned. “Kids love cookies more than consequences.” Molly: “We’ll grab every present, leave the crumbs, and vanish before the piñata learns our names.” Bill: “Deal. On three?” Molly: “On ‘two’ so you can’t count.” Bill: “That’s unfair.” Molly: “Three!” Bill: “Okay, okay—moving!”