Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9Z438CHY56YYMYHB50A4B

Alley light flickers. Bill squints at a crumpled map, soda sloshing. “Molly, those are *napkins* marked ‘security.’” He pokes it. “Toddler with a GoPro?” “Kid’s party,” she says, scrolling a list. “Piñata full of candy, but the loot’s in the red tent—Lego, a unicorn stuffie, *gold* sippy cup.” Bill snorts. “Unicorn stuffie? What, we gonna frame it? ‘Sorry, FBI, it’s a *vintage* heist artifact.’” She shoves him. “Ninja Turtle balloons mean no alarms—kids yank ’em down. But *duck tape* on the tent? Dammit, why’s the mom a former Brownie?” “She thinks it’s ‘decor.’” He rubs his stomach. “I’m not eatin’ cake with sprinkles. Last heist, that gluten-free flour gave me *IBS*.” “We’ll hit the piñata after—sugar high makes ’em hyper. You hide the sippy cup in your toolbox? The one with the inflatable flamingo?” He freezes. “You saw that? I lost that in ’08!” “Honey, I see *everything*.” She grins. “Now c’mon—if we’re late, the Goodie Bags’ll be gone. And *I* want a lollipop.” Bill sighs, tucking the map. “If I get covered in ketchup, I’m blaming you.” “Deal.” Light dims. Footsteps clatter. “Wait—where’s the *cake* map?” “Oh, that’s the *party invitation*. Dummy.”