Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0A6G5B1ZDC0TTMJ3JEDHYT

Molly and Bill slid under the crepe-paper table, listening to squeals and the thump of party games. The room smelled of frosting and bubble bath, which somehow made Bill feel brave. Molly traced the present pile on a napkin, whispering cues between bites of stolen licorice. Bill kept checking his wristwatch like it might ring up permission. Outside, a clown rehearsed jokes, and every laugh echoed through their hideout. When the music paused, Molly nodded toward the gift stack and prepared her heist speech. She raised a gloved finger, and Bill adjusted the ribbon cutter with theatrical menace for them. “Muffle your sneezes, Bill; kids hate surprises.” “Too late, I already auditioned as a mascot.” “Good. Now we borrow presents, not hearts.” “Their wrapping is basically armor.” “Armor doesn’t work on my stealthy cat mask.” “It’s smiling, so security laughs and opens doors.” “If anyone asks, we’re party consultants.” “I’ll consult on loot logistics, legally adjacent.” “Remember, no grabbing from the toddlers’ table.” “Then we’ll only steal the big boxes; that’s fair.” “See the banner? ‘Happy Birthday, Eli!’ I’m studying their target.” “Lucky Eli, I’m Bill; I’m basically family.” “Great, our getaway is your garage, where toys go to thrive.”