Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCSTJ3A84MJFB021QQEG3FM

Molly adjusted her black balaclava and studied the crayon-colored invitation taped to the dashboard of Bill's rusted sedan. The target was a suburban living room draped in ceramic unicorns and crepe paper, currently hosting a birthday celebration for a child named Tyler. They had parked two doors down, hidden behind a minivan with a soccer decal. Bill cracked his knuckles with theatrical menace. "We need a diversion," Molly said. Bill snorted. "I'm dressed as a ninja, not a magician." "Exactly ten percent." Bill blinked. "What?" The streetlamp flickered overhead as Molly distributed two oversized trash sacks printed with cartoon balloons. "Children cry loudly," she continued. "We slip through the back gate, bag every present stacked near the inflatable castle, and vanish before anyone notices the wrapping paper is gone." Bill peeked through binoculars at the sliding glass door, where adults were currently attempting to light seventeen candles on a dinosaur cake. "This feels wrong," Bill said. "They have face paint." Moral ambiguity had never stopped Bill from stealing a taxidermied bear, but Molly nudged his elbow. "We take only the boxes, leave the cupcakes. Professional courtesy." Bill sighed, pocketing his lock picks. "If I get hugged by a toddler, I'm billing you emotional damages." Molly grinned beneath her mask and opened the car door. The night smelled like sugar and poor decision-making, perfect conditions for a heist that would surely ruin Tyler's Tuesday but fund their escape to Belize. They crept toward the fence together, sacks rustling like guilty whispers.<|end_message|>