Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ50QDKKWZEQ88GWZBRKX6J

Molly adjusted the binoculars, scanning the backyard through the fence slats. Streamers fluttered from every surface. A piñata shaped like a unicorn dangled from a tree branch, defenseless. Children shrieked somewhere nearby, the sound carrying on the breeze like the battle cry of tiny warriors hopped up on cake frosting. "Bill, are you seeing this?" Bill squinted through his binoculars, the strap tangled around his neck like a noose. He tugged at it absently, the way he tugged at most problems—without much success. The van smelled like old burritos and regret. "Yeah, I see it. Goldmine. Absolutely positively a goldmine." "That piñata looks suspicious." "It's candy, Molly. It's literally full of candy." "I'm talking about the presents table, you walnut. Count them." Bill lowered his binoculars and started counting on his fingers, mouthing numbers. "I make it twelve. Twelve whole presents. Maybe more behind the big one shaped like a castle." "Castle. Princess theme. Wealthy parents. That castle probably costs more than our van." "We should've brought a bigger van." Molly turned sharply, her elbow catching the dashboard. She ignored the pain. A balloon drifted over the fence and landed on the windshield. Neither of them acknowledged it. "We're not stealing presents in the van. It's our getaway vehicle. Simple." "Then why did you just say we should've brought a bigger van?" Molly paused, thinking. Somewhere in the distance, a child wailed about stolen cake. A dog barked. The universe continued its relentless indifference. "Shut up. Okay, new plan. We take the most valuable ones. Leave the rest. I'm not a monster." "You literally said you'd rob children." "Robbing them implies a crime against them. We're redistributing wealth. From the rich toddlers to us. The deserving." Bill scratched his head, genuinely considering this philosophy. He'd always been the philosophical one, which was concerning given his other qualifications. "Okay, so how do we get past the bouncy castle guard?" "The what?" Bill pointed. A mother in a visor sat in a lawn chair next to the bouncy castle, arms crossed, eyes scanning the perimeter like a drone operator. Her sunglasses were the kind that reflected your own disappointment back at you. "That's Mrs. Pemberton. She confiscated my nephew's capri sun for not RSVPing." "She once made a kid cry for double-dipping." Molly groaned loudly. "Fine. We need a distraction. What do children respond to?" "Clowns? Candy? Frozen songs?" "Bill, we're not dressing as clowns. I'd rather go to prison." "Candy?" "You know what, yes. Candy. We throw candy over the fence, they stampede, we grab the presents during the chaos." "You're a genius. A horrible, terrible genius." "Thank you. Now help me find the candy. I know there's something under the ski masks." Bill rummaged through the mess behind them, emerging with a bag of off-brand chocolate and a tangled slinky. He held up his prizes, triumphant. "The slinky is for me, I love it, but the chocolate's our ticket in. How many fun-sized bars does it take to distract twenty children?" Molly grabbed the bag, hefted it, and smiled at the absurdity of her life choices. Outside, the party continued, oblivious. A magician was pulling something from a hat. "Enough."