Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCTEEFEWM5248D9TW30HNC6

The moon watched Molly study the yellow bungalow like a surgeon planning malpractice. Balloons sagged against gutters, and through the bay window, a mountain of wrapped boxes shimmered under a single lamp. Paradise for the greedy. Bill sidled up, smelling of peppermint and poor decisions, carrying a duffel that had seen better courts. "We're breaking into a kindergarten birthday," he said. Molly ticked gears on her lockset. "What do you think?" "That we're monsters. Why are we here?" "Thirty gifts, Bill. Top shelf. I want them." Bill peeked inside. "There's a sleeping unicorn." "Exactly. We wait." He sighed. "This feels wrong." "Get used to it." She popped the window. Silence swallowed them except for crinkling wrapping paper as they stuffed the duffel. Molly stuffed a robotic dinosaur alongside a pink tea set. Bill froze. "Did you hear—" The lights blazed. A five-year-old in pajamas pointed. "You're naughty!" she shrieked. Molly grabbed the bag. "Run!" Bill tripped over a balloon arch, dragging the loot. Outside, sirens wailed—someone had called. They sprinted toward the hedge, Molly dragging Bill by his collar. "Next time," he wheezed, "we rob a bank." "Too noisy," she said. The duffel clinked with plastic joy. "Children's parties are our goldmine. We'll fence them by noon." Bill looked back at the glowing house. "We are going to hell." "With excellent loot," Molly said. They vanished into the dark, leaving only a trail of glitter.<|end_message|>