Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0AWAN97ZDGAW4SN9X0YKW1

Molly peered through the bakery window at the balloon-lit house across the street. "That party is a gold mine," she whispered. "A confetti mine," Bill replied, adjusting his tie, "which is worse for the shoes." Inside, a chorus of squeals rose every time the gift table groaned under another wrapped package. "We go in as entertainers," Molly said. "Entertainers?" "Yes. You are a magician." "I am terrible at magic." "Perfect. Children adore failures if they wear a cape." Bill frowned. "And you?" "I am the clown's mysterious assistant." "You hate clowns." "Exactly. No one expects sincerity from a clown-adjacent woman." Bill watched a parent photograph a towering cake. "What's the extraction route?" "Front door, through the kitchen, out the laundry, and into the van." "The van with the expired circus decals?" "The very same. It screams innocence." Bill grinned. "And the presents?" "We sort them later." "You mean tomorrow?" Molly nodded. "We are criminals, Bill, not monsters. Tonight we only take the gifts." He lifted his hat. "For the children?" "For the children," she said, and both of them, impossibly, looked almost noble as the first trumpet of the party soundtrack began.