Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ746K5B9PW82TAG0AAMS25E

Molly peered through the crack in the patio door, her nose wrinkling at the scent of sugar and impending disaster. Beside her, Bill fumbled with a grappling hook made of twisted birthday ribbon, his hands shaking with the thrill of petty theft. He nearly knocked over a stack of wrapping paper, sending a cascade of glitter bombarding his boots. Molly hissed, adjusting her tinfoil helmet. She checked her watch, the timer ticking down to the dessert course. The window latch groaned under Bill's nervous weight, echoing through the silent suburban street like a dying whale. Bill whispered loudly, clutching his sack tightly. "The laser grid is just the streamers," Molly hissed, adjusting her tinfoil helmet. "You tripped over the piñata." "Piñatas are sharp." "Check the loot now?" "What if the parents intervene?" "We're in disguise. I'm a zombie accountant; you're a toaster." "Survive first, sulk later. The cake table is the vault. Once the kids nap, we grab the cache and vanish through the doggy door." "What if there's a guard dog?" "The dog is lazy. We have treats, you idiot." "Figure it out. Tonight we ride the rainbow of wealth. No books." "Can I keep the unicorn, pretty please?" "Only if we survive the bubble wrap."