Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08KZXGXF3XS02RJPV4NN54

Molly slid her toolkit from the backpack with the practiced calm of a librarian hiding contraband glitter. Bill crouched behind a hedge, squinting at the front porch like it owed him money. Beyond the window, laughter bubbled up in bright, unstoppable waves—birthday joy with sprinkles. “Okay,” Molly whispered, setting a tiny suction cup to the doorframe. “The kid isn’t even looking at us. That’s basically consent.” Bill shuddered. “Don’t say consent. This is a heist, not a… learning activity.” Molly nodded toward a cardboard sign that read WELCOME, under which a paper crown drooped like a defeated flag. “We’re taking all the presents,” she said, checking her lock picks. “Every last one. Chaos, but make it festive.” Bill peeked through a gap in the blinds. “I can already hear the parents asking where the presents are. They’ll blame the dog. The dog has an alibi made of fur.” Molly smiled. “Perfect. Then we’ll return the dog’s dignity and keep the loot.” Bill reached for the window latch. “On the count of three?” Molly held up a finger. “One.” Bill held his breath. “Two.” Molly pressed the suction, and the door clicked open with the gentle certainty of a cat opening a cabinet. “Three,” she hissed, already slipping inside.