Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08QN2ECBZ72EVFE3J26E3E

Molly crouched behind the hedge, watching the house glow with balloons, streamers, and the kind of optimism that frightened professionals. "That's the target," Molly whispered. "Lots of soft loot tonight." "Maybe," Bill said, "we should also steal some cake too." Bill tugged his tie, striped like a warning sign, and stared at the window where children shrieked beside wrapping paper. "We're monsters," he said. "Excellent disguise for party work, apparently." "Keep voice down," Molly said. "Professionals never sound cheerful, ever." Molly pulled out a map drawn on a napkin and a piece of licorice, her preferred tools for excellence today. "You still think the clown cover is necessary?" Bill asked. "Absolutely," said Molly. "Everyone trusts a clown with organizational skills." They slipped toward the side gate as a disco version of Happy Birthday thumped through the walls like nervous thunder. "I don't trust clowns," Bill muttered. "That's why you'll survive." "If anyone asks, we're entertainers," Molly said. "Terrible ones, clearly." Inside, the party erupted in confetti and applause for a magician who looked tragically aware of his own limitations already. "See?" Molly breathed. "They're distracted by actual incompetence, beautifully, finally." "Did we rob a party?" Bill asked. "Delightfully," Molly said.