Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0NQ2VTMS469EQVAT6FSDFA

Molly crouched behind the hedge, studying the backyard through glittery binoculars. Balloons bobbed over a picnic table, a magician wrestled with a scarf, and thirty wrapped presents gleamed beneath a banner reading HAPPY 7TH, OSCAR! “Terrible security,” Molly whispered. “Terrible hats,” Bill said. “That clown has three pockets and no suspicion.” “We enter during the cake song.” “I hate singing.” “You don’t sing. You carry.” Bill squinted at the presents. “That dinosaur one is mine.” “Nothing is yours. Everything goes in the wagon.” “The wagon has a squeaky wheel.” “So squeak cheerfully.” A shriek rose as children chased bubbles across the lawn. Molly unfolded a crayon map drawn on a napkin. “Route A: under trampoline, past jelly table, grab gifts.” “Jelly table?” Bill gulped. “Focus.” “What if there’s jelly on the floor?” “Then we improvise.” “I don’t improvise near jam.” The magician produced a rabbit. The children applauded. The rabbit looked directly at the hedge. “It knows,” Bill said. “It’s a rabbit.” “It’s party security.” Molly sighed, tightening her black mask, which sparkled with accidental glue. “On three.” “One,” Bill said. “Two.” “Wait.” “What?” “Maybe stealing birthday presents is low.” Molly stared. Then she lowered the binoculars. “Fine. We steal cake.” “Heroically,” Bill said.