Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAK49K522JGRNMB9WAJP7X

The warehouse was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a single bulb dangling from a rusted chain. Molly adjusted her ski mask, her fingers twitching with anticipation as she eyed the blueprint spread across a crate. Bill leaned against a stack of crates, arms crossed, his grin sharp as a switchblade. "You sure this is the right place?" Bill asked, tapping the paper. "Last I checked, kids’ parties weren’t exactly Fort Knox." Molly rolled her eyes. "Would you rather hit a bank? At least here, the security’s about as tough as a piñata. And the presents? Top-tier loot. Toys, games, maybe even some of those fancy new drones. We’ll be swimming in swag by midnight." Bill whistled. "Swimming. Now that’s a goal. But what about the parents? You think they’ll just let us waltz in like we belong?" Molly smirked, pulling a lanyard from her pocket. "Already handled. Fake ID says I’m ‘Auntie Molly,’ here to ‘help with the decorations.’ You’re ‘Uncle Bill,’ my ‘long-lost cousin.’ We’ll blend right in. Just don’t trip over any balloons." Bill groaned. "I hate balloons. They pop." "Then don’t touch them," Molly said, shoving the blueprint into his hands. "Now memorize the layout. We hit the gift table first, then the cake—just in case there’s any cash hidden in it. And Bill?" "Yeah?" "Try not to eat any of the cupcakes before we leave."