Run: 2026-09-25-01M3CKJ4Y68JVANK5Q6FGKSWEQ

Molly adjusted her Santa hat, the jingle bells sewn into the brim clinking softly. The party was in full swing behind the fence, a riot of squeals and sugar-fueled chaos. She nudged Bill with her elbow. "You sure this is the right move? Stealing from kids feels a bit low, even for us." Bill adjusted his fake beard, which kept slipping over his nose. "Low? Molly, we’re saving them from themselves. Half these presents are plastic junk that’ll break by New Year’s. We’re doing a public service." "Public service?" Molly scoffed. "Since when do we care about public service? Last week you stole a fire hydrant because it was ‘shiny.’" "Okay, fair. But this is different. Think of the resale value. A mountain of unopened LEGO sets? That’s basically a retirement fund." Molly sighed, watching a kid in a dinosaur costume face-plant into a cake. "Fine. But we go in fast, grab the loot, and leave before the parents notice. No traumatizing the little angels." Bill grinned. "Too late. That one over there just saw me. Wave, Molly." A small girl in pigtails pointed at them, eyes wide. Molly groaned and waved back, forcing a cheerful grin. "Happy birthday, sweetheart! Santa sent us early!" The girl’s face lit up. "Santa’s helpers!" Bill whispered, "We’re committed now. Play along." Molly muttered, "I hate you," before turning back to the girl. "That’s right! And Santa says you’ve been extra good this year. Where’s the present pile?" The girl grabbed their hands and dragged them toward a table groaning under a mountain of wrapped boxes. Bill’s eyes gleamed. "Jackpot." Molly hesitated. "Bill, we can’t just—" "Too late." Bill scooped up an armful of presents. "Ho ho ho! These are for… uh… quality control." The girl clapped. "Santa’s helpers are funny!" Molly grabbed a few boxes, shoving them into a sack. "This is a disaster. We’re basically doing community theater now." Bill stuffed a teddy bear into his coat. "Relax. Kids believe anything. We could tell them we’re alien pirates and they’d just ask for autographs." A boy tugged on Molly’s sleeve. "Are you really Santa’s helpers?" Molly panicked. "Absolutely. Top of the nice list." Bill added, "And we’re also… professional gift testers. Very important job." The boy nodded solemnly. "Can I help?" Molly and Bill exchanged a look. Bill whispered, "We’re either the worst criminals ever or the best." Molly sighed. "Both. We’re both."