Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5GS0VJNSSMPZT2HFQKGWW

Molly traced a chubby crayon line across the map, which was, in fact, a brightly illustrated invitation to Timmy’s Sixth Birthday. Bill adjusted his spectacles, squinting at the rendered floorplan of the suburban living room. “The primary target cluster,” Molly whispered, tapping a cluster of ‘X’s near the fireplace, “will be here post-cake. The pinata is a tactical complication.” Bill nodded, his expression grave. He pointed a stubby pencil at a drawing of a man with a red nose. “The hired entertainment is our window. When the clown begins his tragic balloon animal phase, the adult guardians will be incapacitated by nostalgia and mild horror. That’s our ingress.” Molly leaned back, surveying their work. The plan was flawless, a masterpiece of low-stakes larceny. They had cased the joint, noting the schedule for musical chairs and the predictable sugar-crash that would follow. “We go in as caterers,” Bill stated. “No,” Molly corrected, a sly smile spreading. “As the magician’s assistants. No one questions people carrying a large, empty box.” She folded the map with reverence. All that stood between them and a haul of action figures and glittery notebooks was a battalion of six-year-olds. It was, they both agreed, their most daring caper yet.