Run: 2026-09-25-01M3CKH65E5GRRJBR64H445HK1

The dim glow of a flickering streetlamp cast long shadows across the alley where Molly and Bill crouched behind a stack of discarded party decorations. The scent of stale cake and helium lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of the loot just beyond their reach. Molly adjusted her black ski mask, the sequins she’d glued on for flair catching the light. "You sure this is the right house?" she whispered, eyeing the pastel balloons bobbing in the breeze. Bill squinted at the clipboard in his hands. "According to the invite, little Timmy’s birthday bash is in full swing. And where there’s a birthday, there’s presents." Molly smirked. "And where there’s presents, there’s us." Bill nodded. "Exactly. But we gotta be quick. Parents get twitchy when their kids start crying over missing toys." Molly cracked her knuckles. "So, what’s the play? Front door? Back window?" Bill scratched his chin. "Too risky. The mom’s got eyes like a hawk. We go in through the garage. The dad left the side door unlocked—classic rookie move." Molly grinned. "You’re a genius, Bill." Bill shrugged. "Nah, just a guy who reads the neighborhood watch newsletter." They crept along the fence, the sound of children’s laughter growing louder. Molly paused, tilting her head. "You hear that? That’s the sound of untapped potential." Bill chuckled. "Or the sound of our next payday." As they reached the garage, Molly pulled out a lockpick set, but Bill stopped her. "No need. Remember? Unlocked." Molly rolled her eyes. "Right. But just for fun—" She jiggled the handle, and the door swung open. "Told you." Inside, the garage was a maze of bikes and lawn equipment. Molly pointed to a door leading into the house. "That’s our ticket." Bill hesitated. "You think we should’ve brought a decoy? Like, a clown or something?" Molly scoffed. "We *are* the decoy. Kids love a good distraction." They slipped into the house, the noise of the party washing over them. The living room was a riot of color—streamers, cake crumbs, and a mountain of gifts under a banner that read "Happy 7th Birthday, Timmy!" Molly’s eyes widened. "Jackpot." Bill swallowed hard. "Okay, new plan. You grab the big stuff, I’ll handle the small fry." Molly nodded, already eyeing a shiny new bike. "You got it. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you." Bill grinned. "Deal. But if we don’t, I’m buying the first round." They moved like shadows, stuffing presents into their sacks. The kids were too busy screaming over cake to notice. Molly held up a stuffed unicorn. "Think this’ll fetch a good price?" Bill snatched it from her. "Nah, but my niece would love it. Consider it a bonus." Molly sighed. "You’re impossible." Bill winked. "And yet, here you are." A sudden silence fell over the room. Molly froze. "Uh, Bill?" Bill turned. The kids were staring at them, wide-eyed. One pointed. "Mommy, who are those people?" Molly groaned. "Time to go." They bolted for the garage, sacks bouncing against their backs. Behind them, a chorus of tiny voices rose in outrage. Bill glanced back. "We’re gonna need a bigger decoy next time." Molly laughed as they disappeared into the night. "Next time, we bring the clown."