Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ7ZGHXYS0P4MXXV8EGVYFB

Molly adjusted her trench coat inside the unmarked van, eyeing the suburban home through the rear window. Streamers looped like neon spaghetti across the living room, and the lawn thumped with a bounce house shaped like a cartoon dinosaur. “This is a nightmare,” Bill muttered, fiddling with a lock-picking kit. “We’re supposed to steal presents, not get pepper-sprayed by a toddler with a water gun.” “Relax,” Molly said, peering at the guest list on her phone. “The parents are all inside drinking punch laced with rum. We’ll slip in, disable the motion sensors, and vanish before the piñata’s empty.” Bill gaped. “Motion sensors? You said *children’s party*, not *Mission: Impossible*.” “Eh, I added the sensors.” Molly grinned. “Makes it fun.” He groaned. “And the ‘getaway plan’ is…?” “Squirrel costume.” She nodded toward a garish green outfit in the back. “We’ll blend in with the party favor chaos.” “Chaos? Molly, this is a *kids’* party! They’ll think you’re a walking dessert table and try to feed you.” A car pulled into the driveway. Molly shushed him as the door swung open, revealing a babysitter in a tiara clutching a tub of candy. “Phase one: sabotage the clown’s script,” Molly whispered. “We need ten minutes of *controlled* panic.” Bill saluted, then winced. “What if we trigger a glitter bomb?” “Then we’ll leave a trail of sparkle and run like Olympians.” “Brilliant. Nothing says ‘stealth’ like iridescent footprints.” Molly kicked the van’s door. “Move your Daisy Duke posterior. The cake isn’t going to frost itself.” Bill mumbled something about cake puns as they slunk toward the house, the bounce house emitting a mortified squeal.