Run: 2026-03-18-01KM090TYDPTTRAFZ2P7QN0XWD

The rain drummed a steady beat on the roof of their beat-up sedan, turning the windows into a glossy mess of neon and headlights. Molly flipped through a crumpled party brochure, straightening it against the dashboard. Inside the car, the air smelled like old coffee and the kind of anxiety that comes from knowing you’re about to rob a child’s birthday party. Bill wrestled with the radio, his fingers poking at buttons like he was disarming a bomb. Static hissed in response. "Bill," Molly snapped, slapping the brochure against the dash. "Focus. We’ve got one shot at this. One. Timmy’s mom hired extra security this year. *Extra.*" Bill gave up on the radio and turned to her, wiping rain from his eyebrows. "Chill, Mol. Back door’s a joke. Kid couldn’t pick a lock if his life depended on it." Molly groaned, massaging her temples. "Kids today have piñatas that require a biometric scan. But fine, you’re right. The back door’s our best shot. But timing is everything." Bill leaned in, squinting at the brochure like it was written in Sanskrit. "Timing how? You mean we march in there like we belong?" Molly side-eyed him. "No, Bill. We hit it during ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey.’ Adults will be occupied. Laughing. Maybe crying a little. That’s our window." Bill considered this, then frowned. "But what if the kid wins? What if he nails that tail right where it belongs? Then what?" Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Bill. The kid’s seven. He’s still learning to tie his shoes. We’re safe." Bill opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Instead, he tapped the brochure. "And the presents? Where’s the good stuff?" Molly flipped to a scribbled list on the back page. "Jenkins’ mom said no electronics this year. Just toys. Lots of toys. Action figures, dolls, and that new robotic hamster thing everyone’s losing their minds over." Bill whistled. "Robotic hamster, huh? That’s gotta be worth, like, twenty bucks." Molly gave him a look that could’ve frozen lava. "Twenty bucks? Bill, it’s a limited edition. You could sell it on eBay for triple. We move the whole haul, we’re talking four, five grand easy." Bill’s eyes sparkled. "Sweet. So we grab the hamster, the action figures, the dolls—" "—and whatever else parents wasted money on to shut their kids up," Molly finished. "The trick is getting in and out before anyone notices the mountain of presents we’re carrying." Bill clapped his hands. "Easy. We bring a wagon." Molly blinked. "A wagon?" "Yeah! One of those big red ones. Kids use ‘em at the park. We roll that in there, stuff it full of loot, and by the time the ‘Pin the Tail’ thing’s over, we’re out the back door like we were never there." Molly stared at him. Then she started laughing, shaking her head. "Bill, you genius. It’s perfect." Bill grinned, soaking in the praise. "Told you I scoped it out." Molly tucked the brochure into her jacket, chuckling. "Alright, Wagner. Here’s the plan."