Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0A70RW4049D840MPV4WVXG

Molly crouched behind the hedges, peering at the suburban garden where balloons shivered in the dusk like nervous fish. Inside, a banner announced HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUCY! and the back door was propped open by a fire truck toy. Bill adjusted his knit cap, which had a pom-pom because, as he said, “Intimidation is overrated.” “Last chance to quit?” Molly whispered. Bill checked the clipboard they’d stolen. “We’re professionals.” “Professional what?” “Disappointments.” Laughter drifted from the party, followed by a recorder squeal and applause. Molly watched a clown bend a balloon sword for a child in a paper crown. Presents stacked beside the cake table, shiny and square, fat with possibility. Bill smiled. “We take the gifts, leave the fruitcake, and vanish.” “Manners?” “Only in emergencies.” They slipped through the side gate, past a sleeping Labrador wearing party hats taped to its ears. Molly tested the porch handle. Unlocked. “Too easy,” she murmured. Bill grinned. “That’s how legends begin.” From inside came a shriek of delight. Molly winced. “We should hurry before someone learns sharing.” Bill nodded, and together they eased slowly into the hall, where the presents waited like treasure, wrapped in paper loud enough to shame a brass band.