Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8VQNXE0YHD7DYT40N60942

Molly spread the hand-drawn blueprint across the hood of their rusty sedan, anchoring one corner with a juice box she had swiped from a gas station. The diagram showed a suburban backyard in stunning detail, complete with a bouncy castle, a balloon arch, and what appeared to be a very aggressive piñata. Bill squinted at it, turning his head sideways like a confused terrier. He had pulled off casino jobs, museum heists, and one deeply regrettable incident involving a llama farm, but something about robbing a seven-year-old's birthday party made his stomach churn with what was either guilt or the gas station burrito from an hour ago. "We go in through the garage while the kids are outside on sugar," Molly whispered, tapping a crayon-labeled rectangle on the map. "What about the clown?" Bill asked. "Avoid the clown." Bill nodded slowly. The plan was simple enough. Slip in during the chaos of musical chairs, load two duffel bags with wrapped presents, and disappear before any parent looked up from their phone. Molly rolled up the blueprint with surgical precision, cracked her knuckles, and pulled on a pair of black gloves that still had department store tags dangling from the wrists.