Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8W280XJF451BEE6NDYZJ59

Molly adjusted her black beanie, flattening it over her eyebrows as she studied the crayon-smeared map taped to the diner table. Bill peered over her shoulder, his finger tracing a route through a carefully drawn diagram of a bouncy castle. "The target is a fortified suburban ranch," Molly whispered, ignoring the smell of stale pancakes. "Perimeter is soft, but crawling with short, sugar-fueled hostiles." Bill nodded, adjusting his unconvincing fake mustache. "Intel confirms the loot is concentrated in the 'gift nook' near the piñata. Our window is during the 'musical statues' distraction. Chaos theory at its finest." "Extraction route?" "Through the hydrangea hedge, into the getaway wagon." He gestured vaguely toward the window, where a battered ice cream truck idled. "But Molly, the big variable... the birthday boy's dog. A Yorkshire Terrier named Mr. Snuffles. He's a known ankle-biter." Molly sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'll bring extra socks. Now, the real question: do we grab the goody bags on the way out?" Bill looked offended. "Only if we have time. We're thieves, not monsters. Professionalism, Molly. This is a precision operation." He paused, frowning. "You did remember to RSVP as 'Clown Cousin Larry,' right?" "Relax," Molly said, folding the map. "My balloon animal skills are... passable."