Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40C9EQREQMXKHK7KXDAG9X

Molly crouched behind the hedge, studying the bungalow’s glowing windows. Balloons bobbed inside like cheerful surveillance drones. A cardboard pirate ship blocked the front door, and a banner announced: HAPPY EIGHTH, TIMMY! Bill adjusted his black knit cap. “I hate children’s parties.” “You hate all parties.” “I like funerals. Everyone dresses properly and nobody makes balloon animals.” “Focus. At seven-thirty, the parents bring out the cake. At seven-thirty-five, the presents are unguarded.” Bill peered through a gap in the leaves. “That pile looks enormous.” “Exactly.” “Some of those boxes are tiny.” “Tiny boxes can contain expensive things.” “Or socks.” “Rich children get novelty socks. With sharks wearing sunglasses.” Bill nodded grimly. “Those fetch a price.” A shriek erupted from inside. Several children ran past the window wearing paper crowns. Bill flinched. “Why are they screaming?” “They’re playing pass-the-parcel.” “They should pass it to the police and leave us alone.” Molly unfolded a crayon-colored map. “We enter through the side gate, cross the garden, slip through the kitchen window, collect the presents, and exit through the laundry room.” “The laundry room?” “It has a dog flap.” “For a dog.” “For two determined professionals carrying gift bags.” Bill examined the map. “What’s this red circle?” “The birthday boy’s grandmother.” “Why is she red?” “Because she has binoculars.” “Inside the house?” “She’s been tracking neighborhood cats since 2014. Do not underestimate her.” Bill swallowed. “Couldn’t we rob a bank?” “Banks have alarms.” “Children’s parties have grandparents.” “Precisely. Less paperwork.” From inside came the sound of a man shouting, “Who wants ice cream?” The windows filled with small bodies. “Now,” Molly whispered. They darted across the lawn, keeping low behind a plastic inflatable dinosaur. Bill’s coat snagged on its tail. “Don’t move,” Molly hissed. “I’m not moving. The dinosaur has me.” “It’s vinyl.” “It’s surprisingly strong vinyl.” Molly yanked him free. The dinosaur wheezed and slowly deflated beneath them. Bill looked back. “We killed Percy.” “It’s a dinosaur, Bill.” “It had kind eyes.” They reached the kitchen window. Molly slid it open with a butter knife. Bill stared at the knife. “You brought burglary equipment from a cutlery drawer?” “It’s non-threatening.” “That knife has a cartoon cow on it.” “Exactly. Nobody suspects Bessie the Butter Champion.” They climbed inside. The kitchen smelled of pizza, frosting, and impending regret. On the counter stood a tray of cupcakes topped with tiny plastic treasure chests. Bill pointed. “Can we take one?” “We are taking all the presents.” “One cupcake wouldn’t change the weight distribution.” Molly handed him a present sack. “Move.” They crept into the hall. The gifts waited beneath a glittering cardboard palm tree: bright bags, ribbons, parcels shaped like bicycles, robots, and suspiciously large stuffed animals. Bill’s eyes widened. “This is the big score.” “Start loading.” He grabbed a gold-wrapped box. “To Timmy, from Aunt Carol. What do you think it is?” “Put it in the bag.” “Could be a watch.” “Put it in the bag.” “Could be socks.” “Bill.” He loaded three boxes. Molly shoved a plush dragon into another sack. A voice behind them said, “Are you pirates?” They froze. A little girl in a purple crown stood in the doorway, holding a melting ice cream cone. Bill slowly turned. “No.” Molly smiled. “Yes.” Bill stared at her. “What?” Molly whispered. “You said no.” “I’m improvising.” The girl narrowed her eyes. “Where are your pirate hats?” Bill pointed at Molly’s black cap. “That’s… pirate black.” Molly nodded. “We’re stealth pirates. We steal only the most dangerous treasure.” The girl looked at the presents. “Those are Timmy’s.” “Exactly,” Molly said. “Timmy is in terrible danger from excessive birthday joy.” The girl considered this. “Can I come?” Bill whispered, “Absolutely not.” Molly crouched. “What’s your name?” “Ruby.” “Ruby, this mission requires a lookout.” Ruby brightened. “I’m excellent at looking.” “Stand by the kitchen and tell us if any adults come.” Ruby saluted with her ice cream. “Aye aye.” Bill stared as she marched away. “You recruited a child.” “She’s an asset.” “She’s eight.” “She has frosting camouflage.” They loaded the final present. Then Ruby shouted, “GRANDMA!” Molly and Bill bolted for the laundry room as an elderly woman rounded the corner, binoculars raised. “I knew it!” she cried. “Gift thieves!” Bill squeezed through the dog flap first. “It’s too small!” “Keep going!” “I’m stuck!” “Think thin thoughts!” Outside, a dog barked enthusiastically as Bill tumbled onto the grass, dragging Molly after him. They ran down the alley with two bulging sacks. Behind them, Ruby called, “Bye, pirates!” Bill panted. “We’re never doing this again.” Molly grinned. “Next week, we hit a christening.” Bill stopped dead. “Do they have cupcakes?”