Run: 2026-02-19-01KHVPQS477NEQPZW4W6CF71MD

Molly adjusted her binoculars, peering through the windshield of the rusted surveillance van. Across the street, the Miller residence was a monument to suburban excess, besieged by rabid seven year olds. Balloon arches flanked the driveway. A man in a depressed dinosaur suit smoked by the hedges. "Are the architectural blueprints and security schematics prepared?" Bill handed over a crumpled napkin smelling strongly of mustard. He possessed the physical build of a professional wrestler but the tactical mind of a golden retriever. Molly flattened the napkin, evaluating the crude circles and stick figures drawn in green crayon. "What is this squiggly line shaped like a turtle?" "That is the bouncy castle. It is a fortress." Molly rubbed her temples. The stakes were incredibly high. Timmy was the spoiled heir to a local dealership empire, and his birthday gift pile was legendary. Informants promised three boxes of rare trading cards, a miniature motorized convertible, and enough building block sets to construct a massive functional guest house. "And these red dots near the patio?" "Juice box stations. Fatal choke points." Molly nodded slowly, appreciating the risk. A sugar fueled pack of first graders was far more unpredictable than standard casino security. They needed an entry vector bypassing the primary feeding zones. "We initiate the primary breach through the petting zoo." Bill looked horrified, clutching his two massive hands tightly together. "Those alpacas know my face, Molly. They hold grudges." "You will wear the clown disguise. Maintain perimeter silence until we fully secure the gift table." The plan was simple. Molly would pose as the backup face painter, a distraction guaranteed to draw the miniature hostiles toward the patio. Bill would crawl behind the gift pavilion, bag the cardboard boxes, and extract through the rose bushes. "What about the man inside the green dinosaur costume?" Molly carefully checked her shiny wristwatch. The second hand swept toward three. "I bribed him to take lunch. We have precisely a four minute window of opportunity." "That is barely enough time to steal the building blocks." "It is a grab and go operation. No lingering." They checked their gear. Tactical plastic bags for small valuables. Heavy trash sacks for bulkier items. Earplugs to muffle overlapping temper tantrums. Bill fastened his massive utility belt, currently holding three different colors of balloon animal supplies in case their cover was blown. "Do I get to take home a goodie bag?" "Only if we survive the candy grab during the piñata phase." Molly slid open the door. The roar of the birthday party washed over them like a turbulent ocean. It was pure chaotic energy, a mess of sticky fingers, melted frosting, and unsecured luxury toys waiting to be quietly liberated by competent professionals. "Remember your combat training." Bill pulled down the clown mask, obscuring his sheer terror. "Never attempt to reasonably negotiate with a stubborn suburban toddler." Molly grabbed her tackle box full of hypoallergenic paint. They stepped into the bright afternoon sun, prepared to ruin a very special day.