Run: 2026-09-02-01M1HH4XHQKZG8RZ5PXK1A2D1Z

Molly crouched behind a hedge shaped like a confused unicorn. She checked the time and studied the birthday party spread across the lawn. Folding tables groaned under wrapped presents. Balloons bounced against fences. A clown dozed near a cooler. The afternoon sunshine made everything seem innocent, including the crocodile backpack. "The plan is simple. We enter the party quietly. We steal the presents quickly. We avoid the bouncy castle. We never fight a toddler. We distract the parents with cake. We leave before the clown wakes up. Do you understand? Put on the gloves. Look serious. Smile. We are pros." Molly rolled her eyes and adjusted a fake mustache. Bill tugged at his black gloves and stared at the children as if they owed him money. He had rehearsed this plan for three days, which mostly meant rehearsing complaints. The target table remained bright, tempting, and unguarded all day again. "No. I do not like this. We rob adults. We rob banks. We do not rob children. That table has a dinosaur cake and seventeen gifts. If caught, I will be laughed out of every villain guild. I may never be invited to a rooftop heist. I will not reconsider." "You are being dramatic. Children get presents constantly. They will not miss a few boxes. We will be back before the cake. Do you remember the training? We have a diversion. You have the crocodile backpack. I have the lollipop bribe. Everything is arranged. Everything is inevitable. Everything is ours." Bill looked as if the word inevitable had personally insulted his family. A balloon drifted between them and burst against the fence, making him flinch. Molly did not flinch. She had spent years flinching in dignified places, including rear windows of vans. The backyard remained oblivious, cheerful, and still exposed. "You forgot the baby monitor. You forgot the grandmother. You forgot the dog with the suspicious collar. What if a child screams? What if the cake collapses? What if my mustache falls off? I am not ready for this level of emotional damage. I also want therapy, insurance, and snacks." Molly ignored the snacks comment because she knew Bill would never share pudding. She pointed to the fern behind the cake table, their escape route. The plan depended on timing, misdirection, and the law that no one watches a fern while someone nearby holds a cupcake. It was stupidly brilliant. "Then stop talking and start believing. The presents are already ours. We simply have to collect them like reluctant librarians. On my signal, you lift the biggest box. I will release the candy cane distraction. Bill, look at me. You are dangerous. You are mysterious. You are mildly unattractive now." Bill straightened, offended but encouraged. He took the crocodile backpack and checked the candy canes as if they were sugary explosives. The party music crackled through a speaker. A child shouted for slime. Molly raised three fingers, counting down to the most childish robbery in history, and they were ready.