Run: 2026-09-23-01M36WDHP9B4656REKMD42TXAX

Bill checked his watch for the fourth time while Molly peered through binoculars at the pink balloon arch marking the Jenkins' backyard. "Twelve kids, twenty-three presents," Bill said, adjusting his black turtleneck. "Simple math." "Last time you said something was simple, we ended up handcuffed to a fire hydrant," Molly whispered. Bill winced. "That was one time." "Four times, Bill." He handed her a list. "Priority targets: the RC helicopter, that drone with the camera, and whatever's in the giant purple bag." Molly scanned the list, nodding slowly. "What about the grandparents' contributions?" Bill pointed. "Gramps always wraps them in that shiny gold paper. Easy to spot. Easy to grab." A patio door slid open and seven children spilled out screaming. Molly crouched behind the fence. "Plan B if someone sees us?" Bill straightened his tie. "We're the entertainment. Jugglers." "You can't juggle." "I can hold balls."