Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08MWBYT2CEH8Q828B9ZBHZ

“Molly, check the frosting map again. If we hit the wrong house, we’re paying in sprinkles.” “Relax, Bill. My frosting map is flawless. The driveway is shaped like a chocolate smile.” “Yeah, and last time you called a decoy balloon ‘a chocolate smile’ and it was actually a helium octopus.” “Don’t blame me. Octopuses are naturally mischievous.” “We’re stealing presents from a children’s party, not auditioning for a puppet show.” “Correction: we’re stealing presents that are already basically ours in spirit. Those socks are doomed.” “Spirited socks?” “Shh. Listen. Kids are cheering. That means the parents are distracted by cake.” “I hate when cake becomes a weapon. What’s our entry plan?” “We slide under the porch, pop the gift-guest list lock, and—” “Stop saying ‘lock’ like you have a tool bag full of magic.” “I do. It’s called confidence.” “Confidence doesn’t fit through vents.” “Then we don’t use vents. We use the snack corridor. Follow me.” “Snack corridor sounds like a kidnapping documentary.” “Better than ‘failed heist,’ which is your favorite sequel.” “Fine. What do we steal first?” “Everything wrapped in shiny paper. Also, that dinosaur remote-control thing.” “Dinosaur remote-control is overkill.” “Bill, it’s for stealth. It distracts them with chomps.” “Last question: how do we leave without setting off the doorbell?” “We don’t. We ring it after we’re gone.” “After? That’s… petty.” “Exactly. Now quiet—act innocent.” “Which means what, exactly?” “Smile like a birthday clown.” “I don’t have clown hands.” “Use your thief hands. They’re already creepy.”