Run: 2026-03-18-01KM09DEZ2QW5JR0DN7Q04S76M

“Ready, Bill?” Molly whispered, peering through the hedge at the balloon-bright house. “Ready as a locksmith at a skeleton-key convention,” Bill whispered back, tugging his black gloves straight. “You’re sure this is the right party?” “Of course. Blue streamers, clown on the lawn, suspiciously many tiny chairs. It screams children.” Bill frowned. “It also screams cupcakes.” “Focus. We are here for the presents.” “Right. The presents,” he said, checking his bag. “I’ve brought the flashlight, the crowbar, and a small emergency hat.” “A hat?” “For blending in. If someone asks, I’m with the entertainment.” Molly snorted. “You? Entertaining?” “I contain multitudes.” Inside, a squeal rose, followed by the shriek of a balloon animal popping. Molly winced. “That sounded expensive.” Bill leaned closer. “Question: are we stealing from the gift table, or from the kids after they open them?” “Bill!” “What? Efficiency matters.” “No. We take the unopened presents, the sensible way.” “Shame. I had a whole strategy involving gift wrap and tears.” Molly cracked her knuckles. “In, grab, vanish.” “And if we’re caught?” “Smile politely.” Bill nodded. “You’re the brains.” “And you’re the one carrying the emergency hat.”