Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5NJVMGES25GM8YG0031RJ

Molly peered through the binoculars, her face a mask of grim determination. “The target is heavily fortified,” she whispered. “Multiple small, hyper-vigilant guards. Code names: ‘Timmy’ and ‘Chloe’.” Bill, crouched beside her, consulted a hand-drawn map on a napkin. “The presents are stored in the primary location—the living room. Our window is during the cake distraction. Chaos theory suggests a ninety-second blind spot.” He pointed a pudgy finger at the schematic. “You create a diversion with the piñata. I’ll move in, secure the goods in the empty gift bag, and exfiltrate via the sandbox. It’s clean.” Molly lowered the binoculars, a skeptical eyebrow arched. “Your last ‘clean’ plan involved a trebuchet and a startled swan. Are the intel reports on the parental units confirmed?” “The dad is already snoring on the patio furniture. The mom is on her third glass of ‘juice’. The coast will be clear.” He adjusted his black beanie. “This is the big one, Moll. A haul of LEGOs, action figures, those squishy things… we retire.” Molly sighed, checking the time. “Fine. But if one of those tiny guards offers me a juice box, I’m taking it. A pro needs hydration.” They moved out, blending into the suburban shrubbery.