Run: 2026-10-07-01M4ATYHBRKDYGCAZ2DC1TGQ1G

Molly adjusted her Santa hat, the jingle bells sewn into the brim clinking softly. "You sure this is the right house? Last time we hit a kid’s party, we ended up with a room full of screaming toddlers and a very angry clown." Bill squinted at the address on his phone. "Positive. The invite said ‘No parents allowed.’ Perfect for us." He patted his bag. "I’ve got the fake gift wrap, the distraction—" "Which is?" "A whoopee cushion under the cake. Chaos guaranteed." Molly groaned. "Classy. And the presents?" "Locked in the garage. But the dad’s a handyman. Toolbox is probably full of goodies." "Or booby traps." Bill grinned. "Where’s your sense of adventure?" "Buried under my last three restraining orders." She sighed. "Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming the whoopee cushion." Bill clapped her on the back. "Deal. Now let’s go steal some joy."