Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5DHQH9Q66W0NFDXZQKC8T

The van smelled of cheap air freshers and cheaper decisions. Molly tapped the blueprints with a chewed biro. “The target’s a six-year-old’s birthday party. Security is a portly bloke named Dave in a too-tight clown costume.” Bill polished his pry bar. “Laughing gas in the helium tanks. Knocks ‘em all out. We waltz in, grab the loot, waltz out. Simple.” Molly stared. “You want to gas a children’s party? Have you lost the last vestige of your mind, Bill?” “It’s non-lethal! They’ll just wake up with a headache and a profound fear of balloons.” “No. We go in silent. During the magician’s ‘disappearing rabbit’ bit. Maximum distraction.” Bill sighed. “Fine. But if we have to do the chicken dance as a diversion, I’m out.” He pointed at the schematic. “The real problem is the prize piñata. It’s a fortress.” “Leave ‘Sugar Smash the Unicorn’ to me,” Molly said, patting a pair of industrial-grade shears. “This is a heist, Bill. Not a war crime.”