Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WHNRCJ5033VD1DATJ3VE1

The backroom of the 'Lucky Pawn' shop smelled of dust and desperation. Molly, her eyes sharp behind spectacles, spread the blueprints on the rickety table. "The target is a fortified suburban residence. Party commences at 1500 hours." Bill, a man built like a refrigerator, peered at the crayon-smeared diagram. "Fortified? It's a bouncy castle, Moll." "Which presents a unique perimeter challenge. Our window is during the 'Piñata Panic.' Maximum auditory distraction." "I still think dressing as clowns is a psychological risk." "Nonsense. It's perfect camouflage. You'll handle loot extraction via the slide." "The slide? Molly, I'm a professional." "Which is why you'll appreciate the strategic grease I've applied for a swift getaway. Primary objective: the large gift bag by the fireplace. Intel suggests a Lego Death Star." Bill massaged his temples. "The things I do for interlocking plastic bricks. What's the contingency for a toddler witness?" "Standard procedure. Offer a juice box and deny everything."