Run: 2026-02-19-01KHVP09Y7F1YPZA3DV2QV5M8N

Bill adjusted his binoculars, pressing the lenses hard against his face. Deep red circles forming around his eyes were a mathematical certainty. Across the sunlit street, inflatable palm trees swayed near a bounce house. The target rested exactly three feet away from a patio table covered in frosted cupcakes. It was a shimmering, magnificent mountain of wrapping paper and shiny ribbons. This birthday party represented the biggest heist they had seen all summer. "Look at the sheer volume of wrapping paper on that patio table. The target is swimming in premium building blocks and motorized vehicles. I have never seen a payload this magnificent," Bill whispered, his breath fogging the glass. Molly did not need any binoculars. She was busy studying a detailed map of the backyard, chewing loudly on a piece of terribly stale licorice. The paper document featured several red markers indicating the strategic positions of vigilant soccer moms and one heavily armed magician. "Focus on the extraction route. We stick to the timeline. We only move forward when the papier mache donkey breaks open," Molly instructed, tapping the dashboard. Bill continued to stare through his lenses, breathing heavier as a large box wrapped in dinosaur paper was placed onto the pile by a visiting grandmother. He had spent three days constructing a custom grappling hook out of an umbrella and some fishing line for this. "What if the rented magician spots me creeping behind the inflatable castle? He looks exceptionally suspicious. Also, I strongly feel like wearing this black tactical vest completely ruins the fuzzy plush dog costume illusion," he asked cautiously. Molly sighed. She folded her map and rolled down the window of their rusted sedan to let out some stifling afternoon heat. She looked at her partner, noting his black tactical turtleneck which seemed highly inappropriate for a brightly lit afternoon. "You are dressed as a giant cartoon hound. You will blend in perfectly with the chaotic atmosphere. Just avoid the frosting table," she replied flatly. He pulled the oversized furry mascot skull from the messy backseat. It smelled faintly of mothballs and bad decisions. It was a crucial part of the infiltration strategy. While all the sticky children were completely distracted by sugar and organized games, they would strike without mercy. "This mascot head smells terrible. Are you certain those suburban mothers will not notice a dog hauling away six dozen birthday presents into a burlap sack?" Bill argued, frowning. Molly rubbed her temples, wondering how she had ended up planning a complicated heist around a very wealthy child named Timmy. The presents were unguarded, sitting there beautifully beneath the shade of a large oak tree. They represented a remarkably easy payday. "Stop your whining. Put the furry head on. Grab the sack. Let us secure the loot," Molly stated firmly. Bill nodded, finally lowering his binoculars. He slipped the heavy plush dog head over his tactical gear. He checked his utility belt which held smoke bombs masquerading as confetti poppers. They were ready.