Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08TSCM8TVP2NJSGKCK1GDA

Molly pressed her face to the frosting-smeared window and whispered, “Okay, Bill, the balloon arch is still up, so nobody’s noticed the alarms.” Bill leaned beside her, whispering, “Shhh, my ears are sensitive. Also, what’s the plan if the clown asks for a high-five?” Molly smirked. “We tell him we’re stunt inspectors. ‘This confetti looks suspiciously noncompliant.’” Bill nodded gravely. “Perfect. And the presents? We’re stealing every last one, right?” Molly adjusted her mask. “All of them. The building blocks, the Barbie, the toy dinosaur that roars like a lawsuit.” Bill’s stomach growled audibly, and he hissed, “Did you hear that? It wasn’t me. It was the universe.” Molly giggled. “The universe is hungry for loot.” Bill pointed at a candy table. “We’ll need quiet feet.” Molly corrected him. “We need clever feet. You’re doing the ‘I step on twigs’ thing.” Bill sighed. “Fine, I’ll do the ‘I’m a stealthy legend’ thing.” Molly lifted a tiny grappling hook. “Count down from five.” Bill breathed, “Five… four…” Molly said, “Three, but remind me: why does your lockpick kit smell like cinnamon?” Bill admitted, “Because I panicked. Also, it helps me think.” Molly grinned. “Two… one… go, stealthy cinnamon legend.” Bill whispered, “After we steal the presents, we’re donating a single cracker to their hearts.” Molly replied, “Deal. Now step—quiet—like you’re made of cake.”