Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD7DA7NGZ3SH72EM3K3NAD3

Molly leaned against the brick wall, her arms crossed. Bill fidgeted with a crumpled map, his voice a nervous whisper. “The party’s in thirty minutes. We need to be inside by then.” “Relax, Bill. We’ve done this before.” She rolled her eyes. “Or… I’ve done it. You just nodded once and said ‘smart plan’.” “That was one time!” Bill hissed. “And you stole a turkey from a charity gala. Not exactly—” “It was *strategic*,” Molly cut in. “The turkey was organic. High-value.” She tapped the map. “The entrance is here. Two guards in clown costumes. They’re probably terrible at their jobs, but still.” Bill squinted at the scribbles. “And the presents?” “Stacked in the center. Unicorn piñata? Goldmine. Also, there’s a ‘Santa’—” “A *real* Santa?” Bill’s voice cracked. “Like, the North Pole kind?” “No, a guy in a red suit. Probably a dad or something.” Molly smirked. “But he’s got a clipboard. We’ll let him think we’re ‘helping’.” “Helping? By what, handing out cookies?” Bill unfolded the map. “Look, the back door’s unlocked. We go in quiet-like. You distract the Santa with a ‘safety concern’ about the piñata.” “Ooh, or I could ‘accidentally’ knock over the punch bowl. Classic.” “Too loud. What if someone chases us? I don’t want to explain to the police why we’re sprinting through a living room full of toddlers.” “Because we *are* sprinting through a living room full of toddlers,” Molly said. “That’s the point.” Bill groaned. “You’re impossible.” “And you’re predictable.” She pointed at the map. “The presents are here, near the cake table. We grab what we can, bail before the parents notice.” “What if the cake-” “Is a decoy? They’ll have another one made. Presents are the real prize.” Molly grinned. “We’ll be in and out before anyone realizes the sugar rush convention’s missing its loot.” Bill flipped the map shut. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.” “Deal. Now, let’s go make history.” She started walking, then paused. “Wait—what if the Santa *is* the real Santa? Like, actual magic?” Bill froze. “Molly.” “What if he’s got a list? And he knows who we are?” They stared at each other. “…We’ll cross that bridge if we burn it,” Bill said finally. “Or if we get beamed up by elves,” Molly added. Bill rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go steal Christmas.” They slipped into the alley, the moonlight glinting off their getaway backpacks. Molly paused, then whispered, “Bill?” “Yeah?” “If we get caught, I’m naming our first kid ‘Diesel.’” “Deal.”