Run: 2026-02-19-01KHVP3BR6HNHYM05S1645B12P

Molly adjusted her black tactical turtleneck and slammed a strongly annotated blueprint onto the hood of their rusty orange surveillance van. The blueprint detailed the backyard of a sprawling suburban estate, currently ground zero for little Timmy and his seventh birthday extravaganza. She tapped a red circle indicating the patio furniture. Bill leaned over the schematic, wiping powdered sugar from his chin. He wore standard cat burglar attire, though his utility belt was currently burdened with juice boxes instead of smoke grenades. He squinted at the drawing, particularly the target area marked as the inflatable fortress of doom. "Is the perimeter secure?" "It is a bouncy castle, Molly. The walls are literally made of compressed air and primary colors. A rogue squirrel could breach the south wall." Molly glared at him. She refused to let his lack of professional paranoia ruin the biggest haul of the fiscal quarter. Those presents included a limited edition robotic dinosaur and at least three remote control helicopters. It was the ultimate prize. "Focus, Bill. We have a three minute window before the clown finishes his balloon animal routine. Once he ties off that poodle, the children will swarm the gift table." He pulled a slightly squished juice box from his dark belt and jabbed the tiny straw into the foil. He took a nervous sip, his eyes darting toward the distant sound of shrieking children and annoying kazoo music. "I still think we should have trained for the sticky floor." "I bought the grape juice resistant boots specifically for this operation." She pointed a gloved finger at his feet, completely ignoring the annoying fact that his standard shoe laces were entirely undone. The humid summer air smelled dangerously of rich chocolate frosting and pure childhood joy, a sickening scent that traditionally gave Molly hives. "What about the mothers?" She reached into her dark vest pocket and pulled out a thermal imaging photograph of the noisy patio. "Armed with mimosas and extreme suburban gossip. We stay low, right behind the chocolate fountain. If Mrs. Henderson spots us, deploy the decoy." "The iPad with the unboxing videos?" "Exactly. It will mesmerize the toddlers long enough for us to bag the Lego sets. Do you have the grappling hook?" Bill sighed heavily, letting his shoulders slump under the terrible weight of his own profound criminal inadequacy. He carefully dug around in the chaotic back of the van, moving aside a heavy crowbar and an empty box of sweet animal crackers. "Why would I need a grappling hook for a pile of wrapped cardboard?" She stared directly at him, her silent expression a horrible mask of absolute disdain. "Amateur." He held up his sad empty hands in panicked surrender. "Fine, yes." He finally retrieved the coil of black rope and attached metal claws. They slowly turned toward the white picket fence beside them. This was not merely a simple daytime robbery. This was the absolute pinnacle of their entire lawless careers. The laughing party children would finally fall.