Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA9F8M7QAZ8J48CAB2BTW3

Molly crouched behind the hedge, peering through the gap in the picket fence at the glowing backyard. Balloons bobbed against the porch. A banner read HAPPY SEVENTH, JASPER! and beneath it, a mountain of wrapped presents sat on a folding table like treasure waiting to be claimed. Bill slid in beside her, holding a clipboard and a pair of oversized cardboard tubes. "Right. Phase one. We sneak in through the side gate, we grab the loot, and we're out before the clown finishes his balloon animals." "Phase one," Molly whispered, "is you putting those tubes down. You look like a very suspicious lighthouse." "They're periscopes." "They're paper towel rolls, Bill." He tucked them under his arm with dignity. "Fine. But the periscopes are a metaphor for vigilance." Molly pointed toward the porch. A man in a tall cardboard hat was herding children toward a bouncy castle. "What about him?" "That's Uncle Gary. He's harmless. He once cried at a dishwasher commercial." Bill flipped a page on his clipboard. "The real danger is the dog." "There's a dog?" "Named Sir Fluffington. Don't make eye contact." Molly rolled her eyes. "We're stealing presents from a seven-year-old. Our biggest threat is a golden retriever in a bow tie?" "Never underestimate a dog in a bow tie." They crept along the fence. Bill stepped on a squeaky toy, which let out a shriek that made them both freeze. Somewhere inside the house, a woman called, "Jasper, if that's you with the rubber chicken again—" "Go, go, go!" Molly hissed. They dashed across the lawn, ducked behind the table, and began stuffing gifts into a laundry bag. Molly grabbed a box shaped suspiciously like a bicycle. Bill snatched a flat package and sniffed it. "Ooh, I think this one's a puzzle. Puzzles are the best." "We're not keeping the presents, Bill. We're donating them to the lost children of the city." "Sure. Starting with that giant robot box." Sir Fluffington bounded around the corner, tail wagging furiously. Molly froze. Bill froze. The dog tilted his head, then dropped a squeaky sock at Molly's feet and wagged harder. "He wants to play," Bill whispered. "We don't have time to play." Molly tossed the sock. The dog bounded after it. In the distance, Jasper shrieked with delight, and a balloon popped. "Okay," Molly said, hoisting the heavy bag over her shoulder. "Phase two. We run." "Phase two was always running," Bill said, clutching his clipboard. "I just like to plan ahead."