Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ01256A8J1S3728N2MK9EN0

Molly crouched behind the rhododendron bush, its leafy branches providing perfect cover. The suburban house was a riot of colour—streamers, balloons, a giant inflatable dinosaur guarding the front path. “Alright, Bill,” she whispered, peering through a gap in the foliage. “The target is a six-year-old’s birthday party. Security is minimal. A single, distracted dad is on grill duty, and the mother is inside singing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the third time. Phase one: infiltration.” Bill, a man whose broad shoulders were comically disguised beneath a child’s superhero cape, shifted beside her. “Got it. But why are we hitting a kid’s party? The take can’t be that good. My back hurts from sneaking through this stupid bush.” “The take, you magnificent simpleton, is exceptional,” Molly hissed, her eyes gleaming. “You’re not thinking tactically. We’re after the presents. Unopened. High-value items, untouched by sticky fingers. New video games, premium art sets, high-end electronics gifted by doting aunts. It’s a goldmine in wrapping paper.” “Huh. Never thought of it that way.” Bill scratched his head. “So, what’s the costume policy? I feel ridiculous in this cape.” “You look heroic. It’s called blending in. I’ll be the ‘fun’ magician’s assistant. You’re a… generic superhero. Now, listen. The main event is in the living room. I’ve confirmed the loot is piled under a banner that says ‘YOU’RE SIX, HURRAY!’ We slip in during the cake ceremony. The noise will cover our entry.” “And the extraction? I ain’t trying to run out the front with an armful of Lego boxes.” Molly patted a thick rope coiled over her shoulder. “We go out the back. Through the kitchen, past the chaos, and up the oak tree. I’ve already secured a line to the fence. Clean, quiet, professional.” A loud cheer erupted from the house, followed by the straining notes of ‘Happy Birthday.’ “They’re cutting the cake! That’s our window!” Bill’s stomach rumbled. “Smells like chocolate. We’re not swiping a cupcake too, are we?” “No! Focus, Bill! In, grab the gift bags near the fireplace, out before they notice. The dad will be loading the dishwasher. The mother will be taking photos. The children will be in a sugar frenzy. We will be ghosts.” Molly paused. “Very specific, gift-oriented ghosts.” “Right. Ghosts.” Bill cracked his knuckles. “You got a plan for the bouncy castle obstacle? I’m not as agile as I used to be.” “You roll under it. I’ll create a diversion. Now, follow my lead and try not to trip over any ride-on tractors. Operation Birthday Bash is a go.” They slinked around the side of the house, two shadows against the bright, cheerful siding. The party music thumped, a terrible cover of a popular pop song. Just as they reached the back door, it swung open, and a child in a dinosaur costume burst out, trailing streamers. They froze, pressing against the wall. The little dinosaur paused, looked at them, and then toddled off to chase a butterfly. “See?” Molly whispered, a grin spreading across her face. “They’re too young to be effective sentries. It’s almost too easy.” “Famous last words,” Bill muttered, but he followed her inside, the scent of chocolate cake and pure, unadulterated loot filling the air.