Run: 2026-10-09-01M4FXT8EZPPEZ9048GHXY1XMA

Molly crouched behind the hedge, eyeing the glowing windows of the Henderson house. Balloons bobbed against the porch railing, and somewhere inside, a cluster of seven-year-olds shrieked with the joy of cake. Bill slid in beside her, clutching a clipboard and a flashlight wrapped in red cellophane. "Status report," he whispered. "Three guards," Molly said. "Two uncles and a grandmother with a whistle." "Grandmothers are the hardest part of any operation." "Focus, Bill. The presents are stacked in the living room, right beside the piano. Forty-two gifts, give or take." Bill squinted at his clipboard. "I count forty-three. There's a suspicious box shaped like a pony." "Ponies are always suspicious." Molly tugged a plastic tiara from her coat pocket and pinned it to her hair. "Remember, we go in through the side door, grab the loot, and leave before the piñata comes down." "Why before the piñata?" "Because when the piñata breaks, every child in the room becomes a sprinting raccoon, and I am not outrunning a raccoon army in these shoes." Bill nodded gravely and wrote something down. "Noted. What's our cover?" "We're clowns." "We're not clowns, Molly. I threw up on the last clown costume." "Then you're the sad clown, and I'm the cheerful one. Nobody questions a sad clown." They crept along the hedge, ducking beneath a bouncy castle that wheezed ominously as they passed. Molly reached the side door first, jiggling the handle with a bobby pin. "Locked," she hissed. "Of course it's locked. It's a house full of children. Parents lock everything." "Did you bring the spare key?" Bill patted his pockets, then his hat, then the inside of his enormous shoe. He produced a single rubber duck. "Does this count?" "No." "It's a very good duck." Molly sighed and pulled a tiny screwdriver from her boot. Within seconds, the door creaked open. A wave of warm air, frosting, and distant laughter rolled out to meet them. "Ready?" Molly asked. Bill tightened his red-cellophane flashlight. "Ready for the greatest heist in birthday history." They slipped inside, and immediately a small voice called out, "Are you the clowns?" Molly froze. Bill smiled his saddest smile. "Yes," he said. "We're here to take the presents." The little girl gasped, then grinned. "Can I help?"