Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WEV28Z985TW8PQR5H6DT0

Molly smoothed the blueprint of the Henderson residence over their rickety table. Bill, whose expertise was more brute force than finesse, squinted at the diagram of the backyard bouncy castle as if it were a high-security vault. The plan was simple, if profoundly undignified: infiltrate the six-year-old's birthday party disguised as overly enthusiastic clowns, then, during the chaos of the cake serving, empty the gift table into a sack decorated with cartoon balloons. Molly had insisted on practicing her 'happy dance' escape maneuver, which Bill refused to acknowledge. He merely polished his oversized novelty hammer, a prop he seemed inordinately fond of. “The security is nap-dependent,” Molly whispered, pointing to the scheduled 'quiet time'. Bill nodded, solemn. “I hate clowns.” Their rehearsal had been disastrous. Bill’s attempt at a balloon animal had resulted in a suggestive shape that horrified Molly. Now, packed into a tiny car with their garish costumes and an oversized, empty sack, they watched the suburban street. Laughter and the shrill squeals of children drifted over the hedge. Molly checked her watch. It was time. The greatest heist of their mediocre careers awaited, hidden beneath layers of rainbow wig and red nose paint. Bill sighed, the sound of a deeply defeated man, and reached for his giant rubber shoes.