Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5FH6PPQPA9J4R7VAZ3YM3

The warehouse loft smelled of dust and desperation. Molly squinted at Bill’s blueprint, which was drawn on a napkin. A half-eaten doughnut served as a paperweight. “Okay,” Bill said, tapping the schematic. “The target is a six-year-old’s birthday party. The vault is a suburban living room. The security is… a chipper clown named Bubbles.” Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “You want us to crash a kid’s party and swipe the gifts.” “Not crash. Infiltrate. You’ll go as the balloon-animal backup. I’ll be the disgruntled uncle, creating a diversion by ‘accidentally’ sitting on the cake.” “I can’t make balloon animals.” “Who can? You’ll just hand out long, wobbly balloons. The kids will be confused, not hostile. The real play is during the piñata. Chaos. We fill a sack and exit via the bounce house.” “The bounce house isn’t an exit, Bill. It’s an enclosed nylon prison.” “It’s tactical! We bounce over the fence. It’s genius.” Molly stared at the doughnut. “The take is what? Plastic dinosaurs and gift cards to toy stores?” “It’s the principle! A clean, low-stakes job to get our confidence back.” “Our last ‘low-stakes job’ was a lemonade stand. You got stung by a bee and confessed everything.” Bill folded the napkin with solemn dignity. “This time, no bees.”