Run: 2026-10-07-01M4ATCVDY1Q56CF9FK2E2JCG7

Molly adjusted her Santa hat, the jingle bell on the tip dangling precariously. "You sure this is the right house? The invite said ‘Pony Rides and Piñatas,’ not ‘Trap House for Thieves.’" Bill squinted at the clipboard he’d swiped from the mailbox. "Says here the Johnson kid’s turning eight. Eight-year-olds get the good loot—iPads, LEGO Death Stars, that kind of stuff." "Or a lifetime supply of fruit snacks," Molly muttered. "I’m not risking my neck for gummy bears." "Relax. We’re in and out before the cake’s cut. Kids are too hopped up on sugar to notice us." Bill tapped his watch. "Clock’s ticking. You take the back door, I’ll distract the parents with my world-famous ‘lost puppy’ routine." Molly snorted. "You mean the one where you whimper and drool?" "Works every time." Bill grinned. "Just don’t get caught in the bouncy castle. Last time took me twenty minutes to escape." "Only because you kept bouncing for fun." Molly adjusted her fake name tag—*Aunt Carol*—and nodded toward the yard. "What’s our exit strategy if the clown’s packing heat?" Bill scoffed. "Clowns don’t carry. They’ve got enough problems with balloons and existential dread." "Fine, but if I see one balloon animal that looks like a security camera, I’m out." Molly cracked her knuckles. "You got the bag?" Bill patted his oversized fanny pack. "Big enough for a pony. Maybe." "Great. So if we get caught, we’re the weird aunt and uncle who brought a pony to a kid’s party." "Better than being the weird aunt and uncle who stole all the presents." Bill adjusted his fake mustache. "You ready?" Molly took a deep breath. "Let’s do this before I remember I have a moral compass." They crept toward the house, the sound of children’s laughter and a kazoo orchestra growing louder. Bill paused at the gate. "Wait. What if the presents are already opened?" Molly groaned. "Then we’re stealing half-eaten cupcakes and a snot-covered action figure." Bill shrugged. "Still better than my last heist. That pet store had more security than Fort Knox." "Because you tried to steal a parrot that kept screaming ‘Cops! Cops!’" "In my defense, that bird was a narc." Bill straightened his bowtie. "Alright, new plan. You grab the gifts, I’ll keep an eye out for the clown." Molly saluted. "And if the clown starts juggling knives?" Bill grinned. "Then we’re getting a free show."