Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ67WAH94CYGCEFCCNV7ZYB

Molly adjusted her binoculars, peering through the window of the suburban home where balloon arches framed the front door in a grotesque welcome. Bill crouched beside her in the azalea bushes, scratching at a mosquito bite on his neck. "The presents are by the cake table," Molly whispered. "How many kids?" Bill asked. Molly counted the miniature humans racing around the living room, their sticky faces smeared with frosting and chaos. A piñata swung from the ceiling, already battered and leaking candy like a paper-mâché wound. "Twelve. Maybe thirteen. There's one in a dinosaur costume I can't quite make out." Bill adjusted his black ski mask, the wool itching his forehead despite the mild weather. They'd been casing the joint for twenty minutes, which was nineteen minutes longer than their attention spans typically allowed for reconnaissance. "Grab the big ones first," Molly instructed. "Then we make for the back fence." A scream pierced the air, but it was just joy. Children were terrifying that way, their delight indistinguishable from terror. "What about the clown?" Bill asked nervously. Molly had noticed him too, a man in rainbow suspenders making balloon animals with unsettling precision. "We avoid the clown. Everyone avoids the clown." The birthday cake candles flickered as the children gathered around, singing off-key. This was their window.