Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ94GQ2C9YMFDZ9GQXMTSGXQ

Do you have the blueprint of the bounce house? Molly asked, her eyes fixed on the suburban driveway from the back of their dented transit van. It is a bouncy castle, Molly. It is literally a bag of air. There are no blueprints, Bill replied, checking his watch while struggling into a tactical vest. Every structure has a weakness, Bill. If we hit the air intake, the whole perimeter collapses. We need an extraction point that does not involve getting tangled in yellow vinyl. I am more worried about the juice box situation. They have a cooler by the garage. High traffic. High risk. We go in during the cake. No one walks away from a double-layer chocolate fudge until the plates are licked. It is the golden rule of heist physics. I still think the clown is a fed, Bill said, adjusting his sunglasses. He watched the performer twist a long neon balloon into something that vaguely resembled a poodle. The clown is a freelance entertainer named Giggles. I checked his Yelp reviews. He is prone to balloon-related meltdowns. He is the perfect distraction. And the dog? The Golden Retriever is a non-factor. I have a pocket full of premium beef jerky. He will be our inside man. I am wearing a pink tutu over my cargo pants, Molly. I feel like my dignity is at an all-time low. Bill looked down at the layers of tulle puffing out from his waist. You look like a whimsical guest. It is called deep-cover camouflage. Now, do you have the inventory list? Based on the gift bag sizes, we are looking at three large boxes, five medium, and a suspiciously heavy small one. I am thinking high-end electronics or a very dense rock. If it is a rock, we leave it. We are thieves, not geologists. Our target is the LEGO Star Destroyer. That is the crown jewel. Molly tapped a thermal camera, pointing it toward the garage. What about the parents? They are hovering like vultures near the dip. Parents are blinded by nostalgia and the desperate need for a nap. They will not see us. We move like shadows between the pinata and the goody bag station. I have the jamming device ready, Bill said, holding up a cracked baby monitor. What does that actually do? It makes a high-pitched buzzing sound that only people over thirty can hear. It creates a localized zone of minor irritation. Brilliant. And the getaway vehicle? I parked the motorized Barbie Jeep behind the azaleas. It has a top speed of five miles per hour, but the turning radius is incredible. Good. Once we secure the payload, we rendezvous at the sandbox. If I get pinned down by a group of toddlers, you leave me. Do you hear me? You save the LEGOs. I can not leave a partner behind, Molly. Especially not one who knows where I live. This is the big one, Bill. This pays for our dry cleaning for at least a month. Now, masks on. This is a Spider-Man mask. The birthday boy is wearing the exact same Spider-Man mask. Perfect. You will blend right in. If anyone asks why you are six feet tall, tell them you had a growth spurt. That is statistically improbable. Tell them it is the hormones in the milk. Let us move. The clown just honked his nose. That is the signal. The signal for what? For us to become legends, Bill. Or at least people who do not have to buy their own toys anymore.