Run: 2026-02-18-01KHQ94QKRKVR48Z58418P3B80

The warehouse smelled of old cheese and broken dreams, which suited Bill perfectly since he had plenty of experience with both. He spread the hand-drawn blueprints across the wobbly table, smoothing the corners with his elbows while simultaneously trying to avoid the suspicious stain near sector four. Molly circled the perimeter of the table like a shark who had recently attended a tactical planning seminar. The target was a seventh birthday party at the Henderson residence. Thirty-two wrapped presents according to their intelligence, which consisted entirely of Molly having peeked over the fence last Tuesday. "We go in through the bouncy castle," Molly said. Bill nodded gravely, as though she had proposed something with genuine strategic merit rather than complete absurdity. He drew a small arrow on the blueprint pointing toward what he had labeled the Inflatable Insertion Point. The plan required disguises, a getaway vehicle, and precise timing around the scheduled appearance of someone called Mister Bubbles the Clown. Bill had nightmares about clowns. He wrote AVOID BUBBLES in capital letters and underlined it three times. "What about the kids?" Bill asked. "Cake," Molly replied simply. It was foolproof. They were, unfortunately, the fools.