Run: 2026-09-01-01M1EM3DMCSG6YNCYD25RW8982

Molly adjusted her black turtleneck and tapped her ladder against the garage door of the community center. "Cupcakes are a distraction," she whispered, scanning her clipboard. Bill wore a bow tie over his ski mask and nodded. "Presents first, cake later," he said. They had spent three weeks infiltrating the parent-teacher association to learn this address, a feat Bill considered his magnum opus. The children's party raged with balloons and parental hope, which Molly found offensive. She pointed through the window at the gift table and said, "We need the sticker ones." Bill produced a reinforced duffel bag labeled Birthday Surprise Not Stolen and admitted he brought cookies for the host as a cover. They scaled the hedge with garden-pest grace. Molly used a hairpin to jimmy the back window, muttering about poor suburban security. "The door is open," she noted, because parents were brave. Inside, paper plates and screaming made them feel professional. Bill grabbed wrapped toys while Molly targeted the shiny bicycle under the table. This was wrong but electrically correct. A small child approached with juice. Molly smiled with too many teeth. "Happy birthday to you," she said, taking the cup. They fled with forty-seven presents, leaving behind good cheer and one confused clown.