Run: 2026-10-07-01M4ATVGMQCWN3A6JATGEF28FY

Molly adjusted her Santa hat, the jingle bell dangling precariously. The party raged behind the fence, a riot of sugar-fueled chaos. She nudged Bill. "You sure the dog’s asleep?" Bill squinted at the yard. "Either that or he’s plotting world domination." He adjusted his fake beard. "We go in, grab the loot, out before the piñata explodes." Molly sighed. "Last time, you got stuck in a ball pit." "In my defense, those balls were *sticky*." Bill cracked his knuckles. "This time, we’re pros." A clown blew a horn. Molly flinched. "Pros don’t flinch." "Pros also don’t rob kids," Bill muttered. "Kids have *too* many presents," Molly said. "It’s practically charity." Bill nodded. "Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming the reindeer antlers." Molly grinned. "Deal." They crouched, eyeing the back door. A child screamed. Bill swallowed. "Or we could just… not." Molly shoved him forward. "Too late. We’re committed." The door creaked open. Inside, a mountain of wrapped boxes gleamed under twinkling lights. Bill whispered, "Jackpot." Molly grabbed a sack. "Let’s move." A tiny voice piped up. "Who are you?" They froze. A toddler stared, clutching a half-eaten cupcake. Bill forced a laugh. "Uh… surprise entertainers?" The toddler hurled the cupcake at his face. Molly groaned. "We’re *so* fired."