Run: 2026-03-18-01KM09G4APNVKYZZPFBRZ7TX11

Molly pressed her cheek to the window and peered inside the bright, sugar-scented chaos. Balloons bobbed like suspicious jellyfish. A glittery banner read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, as if the letters themselves were armed with frosting. Bill crouched beside her, juggling a roll of duct tape, a tiny wrench, and the confidence of a man who’d once tried to open a vending machine with a spoon. “Okay,” Bill whispered, “we take the presents, zip out, and nobody’s the wiser.” Molly traced a careful line on the fogged glass with a fingernail. “Nobody’s the wiser except the very observant three-year-olds.” Bill glanced at the yard where a clown-shaped pinwheel spun with terrifying enthusiasm. “Kids can’t be that observant.” Molly snorted. “They can spot a hiding spot from three rooms away. It’s basically their superpower.” Bill produced a laminated plan labeled Operation Blanket Fortress. “We’re using the shortcut through the playhouse. It’s made of plastic and courage.” Molly adjusted her mask, which was just a black beret pretending to be useful. “Fine. But if we bump the piñata, we’re paying for therapy.” Bill nodded, then paused as the front door clicked open somewhere beyond the wall. “You hear that?” Molly grinned, finally enjoying the mess. “That’s the sound of destiny—also, possibly, a parent looking for lost socks.” Bill whispered, “Can destiny at least leave us alone long enough to steal the presents?” “Only if the presents don’t squeak,” Molly said, and they slid into the night like two misbehaving shadows.