Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8W6VB6WSZ65990YCA42EC9

Molly crouched behind the hedge, her gloved fingers tracing the map of the backyard on crumpled paper while balloons bobbed in the distance. Bill slithered closer, his sneakers squeaking against damp grass. Their target was two blocks down, a clown-infested yard filled with oversized cakes and brightly wrapped boxes worth more than their last three jobs combined. "Molly, this is nuts," Bill whispered, "what if the parents catch us?" "Bill, they’ll be busy arguing over juice boxes, trust me." "Still feels like robbing toddlers." "Then call it a donation." She counted the seconds until the clown’s back was turned, her heart hammering like a tiny drum solo. Bill adjusted the black ski mask that made him look ridiculous, not menacing. They needed speed, silence, and zero fingerprints on any sticky lollipop residue. A balloon popped nearby, jolting them both. Molly nodded once, certain the gate would be unlocked and the presents stacked high near the trampoline. Bill exhaled slowly, already tasting victory cake crumbs.