Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0A0R7ZKMH4ZDYZS3DKSASR

"Molly, tell me again why we’re crouched behind a hedge outside a clown-covered bungalow at four in the afternoon?" Bill whispered. "Because, Bill, the target is simple: birthday loot," Molly said. "That’s not a word criminals use." "It is when criminals are classy." "Classy burglars don’t say 'birthday loot.'" "They do if they’re stealing a mountain of presents from a party full of sugar-drunk five-year-olds." "Even saying that makes me feel sticky." "Focus. The parents will be distracted by cake, balloons, and one catastrophic magician." "What if the magician is good?" "Then we steal faster." "How do we get in?" "We’re the balloon delivery people." "We do not have balloons." "We have confidence." "That’s not the same thing." "No, but it’s more portable." Bill peered over the hedge. "There are three children guarding the presents." "Are they armed?" "One has a plastic sword." "Terrifying." "And a girl in a princess dress is reading labels." "She sounds like security." "Should we feel guilty?" "Bill, we are thieves." "Yes, but those presents have names on them." "Exactly. Efficient sorting." "You’re awful." "I’m practical. Now breathe normally and pretend we belong." A tiny voice from the gate yelled, "Are you the surprise?" Molly froze. Bill sighed. "I hate kids." Molly smiled. "Perfect. We’re in."