Run: 2026-02-19-01KHVP1F7RJBQDDQB3D4CDR3PT

The surveillance van smelled distinctly of stale sweat and lavender air freshener. Molly adjusted the zoom on her heavy binoculars, squinting through the dirty windshield at the suburban fortress across the street. The target was a sprawling house guarded by a battalion of miniature patio chairs and a towering inflatable bouncy castle shaped like a neon dragon. It was Timmy Peterson celebrating his seventh birthday, and the intelligence gathered over the past week was practically glowing. According to the crumpled paper invitation pinned to the dashboard, the party was slated to last until four, leaving a very narrow window for their extraction. "Do we really need the greasepaint?" Bill scratched furiously at his left cheek, threatening to smear the thick white foundation he had just haphazardly applied. He was dressed in oversized trousers that clashed horribly with his tactical combat boots, looking far less like a professional birthday entertainer and substantially more like an escaped convict who had tragically fallen through a crowded costume rack. "Yes, we need the greasepaint. The perimeter is guarded by three moms drinking spiked punch. If they spot two unadorned adults skulking around the gift table, they will trigger the neighborhood watch alarm faster than you can say balloon animal." Molly handed him a grotesque red foam nose. She was already wearing hers, paired with a sleek black turtleneck and a large wig that smelled faintly of cheap mothballs. Her eyes tracked a frantic herd of sugar fueled second graders stampeding across the lawn. The prize was located in the sunroom. Through the glass doors, they could clearly see a glorious glittering mountain of wrapping paper. It was an untapped goldmine of high tier action figures, limited edition building blocks, and remote controlled racing cars. "I am just saying, clown shoes severely limit my agility. What if the host gets suspicious?" "Nobody questions clowns, Bill. It is a perfect grift. You go in, make a latex dachshund, and distract the parents. I will slip into the sunroom, bag the loot, and swap all the boxes with decoys filled with old telephone directories." "What about the bouncy castle?" He gestured out the passenger window toward the hulking inflatable dragon. For several days, he had been totally obsessed with the ridiculous structure, constantly treating it as their main operational obstacle rather than the dozens of screaming tiny pedestrians. Molly sighed, slowly rubbing her temples beneath the synthetic rainbow curls. The complex operation required total flawless synchronicity, and her muscle was entirely focused on stealing the novelty lawn furniture instead of the cash equivalent gifts. "We are not stealing the inflatable dragon." "It is untraceable on the black market." "Just focus entirely on the presents." She reviewed her watch. The magician they locked in their car trunk was due in exactly twelve minutes. "Always remember our strict extraction protocol." Molly grabbed the door handle. "If things go south, grab the biggest box of building blocks and run for the fence." Bill adjusted his rainbow wig and nodded deeply.