Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08Z9A68RENNHT972HQZ050

Molly and Bill crouched behind a curtain of streamers in the living room, where music bounced off every wall. Beyond them, kids chattered and clutched colorful party favors. Molly checked her waistband kit, which smelled faintly of glue and audacity, then nudged Bill toward the gift table. He tapped two bows into alignment like he was defusing a bomb made of satin. The magician’s cape swished closer, summoning cheers. Molly watched parents drift toward the snack bowl, synchronized, like traffic lights for adults. When the hat cover dropped, she raised a hand. Bill cracked his knuckles and mouthed his joke. “Bill, hush—party guests are sleeping.” “No stealing yet, Molly. I’m scouting the gift table.” “Scout faster. Those presents are practically singing.” “Singing? Great. We’ll silence them with loot.” “Remember the plan: swap tags, grab boxes, escape laughing.” “Swap tags with my genius? You have the gloves?” “Gloves, gumless confetti, and a decoy cat sticker.” “If a parent asks, we’re just 'present organizers.'” “Say it with confidence. Children love confidence.” “Okay—when the magician pulls his hat, we strike.” “Strike softly. Nobody wants a squeaky crime.” “Too late, my knee squeaks.” “Molly, breathe. Tonight we steal joy, and leave toothbrushes for them.”