Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0AK4RN6DC94HQ5C0MY8YXW

Molly listened at the rental house peephole. Inside, laughter bounced off balloons. Bill crouched by the driveway planter, gripping a grappling hook shaped like a baguette. He muttered into a stolen recorder. Molly checked her phone: arrival in five, cake in nine, all presents in twelve. She wore cat-gloves and ignored the security brochure. Bill tried the silent-sneak; it sounded like a potato on tile. Molly nodded at the keypad. “Tonight we steal all joy.” Bill grinned. “Keep quiet; kids hate footsteps.” Molly slid a decoy ribbon under the mat. “We’ll grab presents, leave smiles.” Bill tightened the hook. “Vanish before the clown notices.” They waited while the host fetched streamers. Through the window, tiny hands swarmed piñatas as confetti drifted. Molly pictured the wrapped treasures behind the couch, safe from rules. Bill measured the latch, exhaled, and aimed. In minutes they’d exit with bags full of paper, their conscience as light as ribbon. The plan was simple: slip inside during gift chaos, scan the tree for the fattest boxes, and swap in their empty bags. If anyone questioned them, they’d blame the schedule, the universe, or a very convincing cape that always worked. Tonight, kids deserved better than greedy.