Run: 2026-09-25-01M3CKA7JZ8JNCVWSCP5W48TFA

Molly adjusted her Santa hat in the dim glow of the alleyway. The sound of children’s laughter and party music drifted from the house across the street. "Alright, Bill, you sure this is the right place?" she whispered. "Positive. The invite said ‘Pile of Presents Under the Tree.’ That’s code for ‘Free Loot for the Taking.’" Molly squinted. "You think they’ll have good stuff? Or just a bunch of socks and educational toys?" Bill scoffed. "Please. Rich kids. We’re talking tablets, drones, maybe even a pony." "A pony? Bill, we’re thieves, not livestock rustlers." "Details. We’ll cross that bridge if we find a stable." Molly sighed. "Fine. But we’re not hurting any kids." "Wasn’t planning to. Unless they resist." "Bill!" "Kidding. Mostly." He pulled out a grappling hook. "Window’s open. Second floor. Kids are downstairs, so we’ve got maybe ten minutes." Molly grabbed his arm. "What if there’s a dog?" "Then we bribe it with cake. Everyone loves cake." "And if it’s a guard dog?" "Then we run. Fast." Molly groaned. "This is why I work alone." "Yet here you are, partner." She rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you." "Deal. But if we don’t, you owe me a beer." "Fine. But if there’s a pony, you’re dealing with it." Bill grinned. "Noted." He tossed the grappling hook. It clattered against the roof. "Oops." Molly facepalmed. "Smooth, Bill. Real smooth." "Relax. They’ll think it’s part of the party games." "Or they’ll call the cops." "Then we’ll have to move faster." He started climbing. "Coming?" Molly hesitated, then followed. "This is a terrible idea." "But a profitable one." They reached the window and slipped inside. The room was dark, but the glow of a nightlight revealed a mountain of wrapped gifts. Bill whistled. "Jackpot." Molly crept forward. "Alright, grab what you can. Quietly." Bill picked up a box and shook it. "Feels like a video game console." "Or a brick." "Optimism, Molly. It’s the thief’s best friend." She grabbed a bag and started stuffing presents inside. "Hurry up. I hear footsteps." Bill froze. "Kids?" "Or parents." "Worse." A door creaked open. Bill dove behind a curtain. Molly ducked under a bed. A child’s voice called out. "Hello?" Bill whispered, "We’re doomed." Molly hissed, "Shut up!" The child giggled. "I know you’re in here!" Bill groaned. "We’re busted." Molly sighed. "Told you this was a bad idea." Bill peeked out. "Run?" "Run."