Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5NS0B9XHZ5WKKPJ81X8AQ

The warehouse district of Portsborough was eerily quiet at midnight, save for the distant hum of trucks and the occasional flicker of a dying streetlight. Inside a dimly lit storage unit, Molly adjusted her ski mask and spread out a hand-drawn blueprint across a rickety folding table. A single bulb swung overhead, casting jagged shadows across her smirk. Bill squinted at the crude crayon markings. “This… is a McDonald’s PlayPlace.” “Ah-ha!” Molly jabbed a gloved finger at the scribbled slide exit. “Correction—it’s our *goldmine*. Kid’s birthday party, tomorrow, 2 PM sharp. Twenty overprivileged tykes, twenty overpriced gifts. Boom.” Bill scratched his stubble. “You wanna rob a toddler’s party.” “Think bigger, Billy-boy. Parents these days? They buy designer Legos, mini Rolexes—” “They make mini Rolexes?” “Have you *seen* rich six-year-olds?” Molly scoffed. “Point is, the haul’s worth it. And security? Nap-wiped babysitters and a clown named *Bubbles*.” Bill tapped the blueprint skeptically. “What’s Plan B if Bubbles fights back?” Molly produced a water gun from her duffel. “Squirt him. Clowns melt, everyone knows that.” “That’s witches.” “Tomato, *tomahto*.” A rat scuttled across the concrete floor, punctuating the silence. Bill sighed. “Alright, say this works—how do we slip out?” Molly grinned. “Balloon arch. Perfect for a speedy, *cinematic* escape.” “You’ve been watching too many heist movies.” “And *you* haven’t watched *enough*.” She shoved a plastic tiara into his hands. “Disguise. Kids love a man in sparkles.” Bill stared at the tiara like it was a live grenade. “I’d rather wear a clown nose.” “Funny you should say that—” She tossed him a red rubber nose. Bill groaned. The plan was set: Molly, disguised as a piñata mascot (“Kids punch me—*I don’t break*”), would cause a distraction by fake-crying over spilled juice boxes. Bill, as Bubbles’ “assistant” (resume: “failed magician, excellent at disappearing”), would stuff gifts into a giant “goody bag” (a repurposed pregnacy pillowcase). As they high-fived—Bill missing Molly’s hand entirely—she added, “One rule: no stealing candy. We’re criminals, not *monsters*.” Bill nodded solemnly. The night settled around them, thick with possibility. Somewhere, a distant ice cream truck played a off-key version of *Pop Goes the Weasel*. Molly smirked. “Tomorrow, we ride the slide straight to infamy.” Bill hesitated. “Are we… the bad guys here?” Molly}; aandnd now they *that*. *Oh well初心者でも簡単に作れるC++のコード例を教えてください。