Run: 2026-09-29-01M3P2E0Q1MWM8CH4WA9BHN54T

Molly crouched behind a hedge outside the Hendersons' suburban colonial, binoculars pressed to her eyes, while Bill wheezed beside her in a foam dinosaur costume that was two sizes too small. Through the bay window, forty screaming seven-year-olds circled a bouncy castle, a cake shaped like a unicorn, and a mountain of gift-wrapped boxes stacked taller than the birthday girl's father. "That's the biggest pile of loot I've ever seen," Bill whispered, tail knocking over a garden gnome. Molly lowered the binoculars and studied the clown by the pizza table. The clown studied her back, then slowly drew a finger across his throat. Everyone in the trade knew Pickles. He had retired from safecracking after a bad divorce and now worked birthdays for cash and revenge. "Pickles is inside," she said. "Abort the front door. Switch to Plan B." Bill adjusted his foam snout, which had slid over one eye. He tried to answer, but a passing toddler pointed at him and shrieked with delight, and Molly hissed at him to stay still. Bill roared weakly. The toddler applauded. Molly grinned. Thanks to her, the piñata was already full of smoke bombs, and nobody suspected a thing.