Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0MQGR3PN6VET69PDDTS11Q

Molly pressed her nose to the bakery window. Inside, balloons bobbed like gossiping heads. “Bill, that is the target.” “The cake?” “The party, Bill. The presents.” “Right. The presents. Which are, morally speaking, just unopened mysteries.” “They’re for children.” “Small people with short memories.” “Molly, I feel we should establish a code.” “Our code is: grab the sparkly ones first.” “That’s not a code. That’s a shopping preference.” “Fine. No stealing anything with a handmade card.” “Because of sentiment?” “Because glitter sticks to evidence.” Bill squinted through the glass. “There’s a clown.” “I accounted for the clown.” “You accounted for a clown?” “I brought a bigger nose.” “Molly, that is not how clown hierarchy works.” “It works in France.” “No, it doesn’t.” “You don’t know. You’ve never robbed a French clown.” A little girl inside laughed, hugging a stuffed dinosaur. Bill sighed. “That one looks pleased.” “Don’t get attached.” “She named the dinosaur. I can see it on the tag. Sir Chompsalot.” Molly’s shoulders slumped. “That is a strong name.” “We could steal the broccoli tray.” “Nobody wants that.” “Exactly. Perfect crime.” Molly considered the room, then nodded. “In, out, nobody cries.” “And the presents?” “We leave them.” Bill smiled. “We’re terrible thieves.” “Speak for yourself. I’m stealing two cupcakes.”