Run: 2026-03-18-01KM09JXYJ2PQRKH9T6DQA369C

Molly crouched behind the bakery dumpster, smoothing her black gloves as rain ticked on the lid like impatient applause. Across the alley, Bill unfolded a crumpled invitation he’d stolen from a recycling bin. “The party starts at four,” he whispered. “Cake at five. Looting window: between laughter bursts.” Molly peered over his shoulder. “You call presents loot now?” “I call everything loot if it’s not nailed down.” The children’s party glowed at the end of the street, balloons bobbing above the porch like cheerful surveillance drones. A clown-shaped cardboard sign promised GAMES, TREATS, and ABSOLUTELY NO RUNNING. Molly smiled. “Perfect. Chaos is camouflage.” Bill checked his watch. “We go in as entertainers.” “I’m not wearing a pirate hat again.” “Then be a magician.” “I vanish stress, not rabbits.” He held up two clip-on mustaches. “Detective disguise?” “Awful.” “Effective?” “Deeply.” From inside the house came shrieks of delight, then the pop of a balloon. Molly straightened, businesslike. “We take the gifts, leave behind the empty wrapping, and exit before anyone notices Uncle Greg singing.” Bill nodded, grinning. “And if a child asks questions?” Molly patted the sack at her hip. “We offer them a balloon animal and confidence.” They shared a solemn glance, then hurried toward the front gate, ready to rob the room politely.