Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY98MESRQFX1T0MN0MDH1S0

The warehouse smelled like stale popcorn and regret, the kind of regret you get when you realize you’ve just agreed to rob a *children’s party*. Molly adjusted her ski mask, the elastic digging into her forehead like a disapproving parent. Bill fidgeted with a lockpick, his breath fogging up the dim bulb overhead. “You sure about this?” Molly whispered, eyeing the blueprint spread across a crate of defunct toasters. “Kids, balloons, a clown named *Bubbles*—this is a war crime.” Bill didn’t look up. “Relax. It’s not like they’ll miss a few Lego sets. Besides, the real prize is the piñata. Gold coins, Molly. *Gold coins.*” “Gold *plastic* coins, you mean. And what if some kid sees us? What’s our cover?” “Cover?” Bill finally glanced at her, grinning. “We’re the clown’s backup. Extra balloons, extra confusion.” Molly groaned. “I hate clowns.” “Then stop looking at me like that. You’re ruining the vibe.” Bill tapped the blueprint. “We go in at 3:15, when the parents are distracted by cake. I’ll handle the presents, you handle the piñata.” “And if someone asks why we’re carrying a sledgehammer?” Bill shrugged. “Tell them it’s for the piñata. Works every time.” Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m gonna need a drink after this.”