Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD4XY1PX3MM83AZTM25VE25

Molly adjusted her black ski mask and stared at the suburban house across the street, its front lawn decorated with colorful balloons and a banner reading "Happy 7th Birthday, Emma!" "So let me get this straight," Bill said, adjusting his own mask, "we're risking federal prison time to steal birthday presents from a bunch of eight-year-olds?" "Don't be ridiculous," Molly replied, pulling out a blueprint. "These aren't ordinary presents. Emma's dad works at Tiffany's. We're talking about jewelry, electronics, maybe even cash in those gift bags." Bill squinted at the blueprint. "That's... actually not the worst idea I've heard this week. What's our angle?" "Window on the second floor. There's a party going on downstairs, so we'll have maybe thirty minutes before anyone notices we're not supposed to be there." Molly pointed to several X marks on the blueprint. "Those are the gift tables." "Cute," Bill said. "You've actually mapped out a children's birthday party like it's Fort Knox." "Hey, proper planning prevents piss-poor performance." Molly smiled. "We split up. You take the living room gifts, I'll handle the dining room. Meet back here in twenty minutes." "What about the kids?" "They're our distraction. Nothing throws adults off their guard like unsupervised children running around screaming." Bill nodded slowly. "I like the way you think." Twenty minutes later, Bill crept through an open window, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior. The room was chaos—children's laughter echoed from downstairs while colorful decorations hung everywhere. He spotted three gift tables loaded with presents. "Holy crap, Molly wasn't kidding," he whispered into his radio. "There's enough stuff here to outfit a small army." "How's the extraction going?" Molly's voice crackled back. "Smooth as silk. Found the good stuff—designer bags, electronic games, even what appears to be actual gold jewelry." Bill held up a small velvet box. "Engagement ring. Size six." "Nice score. Keep your eyes open for the piñata. Parents always hide the really valuable stuff there." Suddenly, a child's voice called out from the stairs. "Mommy, there's a man in our house!" "Well, that's our cue," Bill said, grabbing an armful of presents. "Time for Plan B." "What's Plan B?" "Run like hell and hope the kids think we're part of the entertainment." Molly's laugh came through the radio. "You're a genius, Bill. Absolute genius."