Run: 2026-02-19-01KHVPC6AWKGDPNGTKSK10DQPK

Molly adjusted her utterly oversized clown shoes. They pinched terribly, but blending in at a seventh birthday bash required a serious commitment to latex and face paint. Bill sat across the cramped getaway van, attempting to twist a neon balloon into a recognizable animal. It currently resembled a distressed sausage. The blueprint of the community center was taped to the dashboard, decorated with aggressive red marker circles around the primary targets. The mascot was the distraction, but the mountain of brightly wrapped gifts teetering recklessly on the folding table was the true prize. They were professionals, accustomed to cracking safes and dodging lasers, not avoiding sticky toddlers smelling of fruit juice. Yet, times were tough and shiny robot toys had immense street value. Bill checked his oversized pocket watch, a prop that doubled as a timer. The sugar rush would peak in precisely four minutes. Once the greedy children swarmed the massive and sweet sheet cake, the cardboard gift perimeter would be entirely exposed. Molly asked quietly, "Do we have the extraction route planned?" Bill quickly replied, "Yes. Avoid the bouncy castle. Grab those wrapped presents now." She then firmly loaded her shiny lockpicks and finally said, "Let us go."