Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KBZ2QZVXZCQHGM0NJP8WPE

The party was a fortress of pastel bunting and sticky-fingered chaos, and Molly surveyed it from behind a parked minivan, adjusting her ski mask over a pair of bunny ears. Bill, wedged into a too-small clown costume, fiddled with a lockpick shaped like a lollipop. “I still think we should’ve gone with the bouncy castle drop,” he muttered. Molly ignored him. The gift table stood unguarded, a mountain of shiny wrapping paper and parental negligence. She timed the piñata swing. Perfect. “Go low, grab the big ones, don’t trip over the balloons.” Bill nodded, then pointed at a toddler wielding a juice box like a grenade. “What about the kid?” Molly smirked. “He’s the lookout. I paid him in stickers.” They crept forward, past a magician doing card tricks, past a wailing baby, past a suspiciously large cupcake that mooed. Bill grabbed a present, then another, then froze as a small girl tugged his sleeve. “Are you the funny clown?” she asked. Bill glanced at Molly, who was already sprinting. “I’m the tax collector,” he said, and ran.