Run: 2026-10-07-01M4AVGTAVT9J4MGTPS5QBGYET

Molly adjusted her Santa hat, the jingle bell dangling precariously. The party raged beyond the hedges, a symphony of sugar-fueled chaos. She nudged Bill, who was busy counting the windows like a man calculating his own funeral expenses. "Too many kids," Bill muttered. "Exactly," Molly said. "Perfect cover." Bill squinted at the piñata swaying like a drunkard. "We’re really stealing from children?" "Technically, we’re stealing *for* children. Future children. Ours." A clown honked a horn, and Bill flinched. "I hate clowns." "Focus. We go in as parents, grab the loot, blend into the chaos." Bill sighed. "Fine. But if I have to wear a name tag, I’m out." Molly grinned. "Too late." She slapped a sticker on his chest: *Dad*. The back door creaked open. A toddler waddled out, clutching a half-eaten cupcake. Molly and Bill froze. The toddler stared, then offered the cupcake. Bill took it. "Thanks, kid." Molly rolled her eyes. "Smooth. Now we’re just the weirdos eating stolen cake."