Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ94R5MBRVW01628SX80DH8S

Molly’s red pen clicked a staccato rhythm against the crumbling edge of a detailed, if crudely drawn, blueprint spread across the stained Formica table they called their 'operations center'. The map, scrawled on the back of a greasy pizza box, depicted a suburban house, boldly labeled 'Tommy's 7th B-Day Bash'. The room, a forgotten storage unit tucked away in the industrial estate, hummed with the stale scent of yesterday's coffee and the vague odor of old tires, mirroring Molly’s own exhaustion. Her patience, always a finite resource, was already wearing thin, evident in the furrow between her brows. "Right, Bill, focus," she snapped, her voice sharp as a crack whip. "This isn't the Louvre, but we still need a plan for Tommy's party." Bill, however, seemed blissfully immune to low spirits. He munched serenely on a gingerbread man, crumbs dusting the makeshift blueprint like a sugary snowfall. He leaned closer, squinting. "I'm focused, Molly. Just, what's the escape route for the bouncy castle? It looks like prime tactical real estate." "The bouncy castle isn't security, Bill. It's an *obstacle*." Molly sighed, pushing her lukewarm coffee mug across the table, the rings it left a permanent record of past briefings. The thought of navigating an inflatable fortress filled with sugar-crazed children made her eye twitch. "Strategic deflation?" Bill offered, completely unperturbed. "No deflating the bouncy castle!" Molly exclaimed. "We're not inciting a riot. Remember the 'Easter Egg Fiasco'? The rabbit mascot still wants us. Target: Mrs. Henderson's living room. Reports indicate LEGO. And… slime." Bill shuddered dramatically, nearly dropping his biscuit. "Slime. Ghastly stuff. High residue. Horrible." "Agreed. Now, K9 units? Poodles on guard?" Molly pressed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "None. Only Buster, a small, highly territorial terrier. And a professional clown." Molly watched his face, knowing the impending theatrics. Bill’s grin widened. "Giggles the Great." "A clown? Molly, this wasn't in the intel!" Bill blurted. "Clowns are wild cards. Unpredictable, armed with balloons, capable of psychological warfare. Did you see 'It'?" "It's a children's party, Bill, not a horror convention. Giggles twists balloons, not minds. He clocks out at 4 PM. We go in at 4:15. Post-cake sugar crash. Perfect window." "Security cameras? Little Timmy might have a drone, you know." "Timmy Henderson has a 'Paw Patrol' scooter. The only surveillance will be Mrs. Wilkinson, the nosy neighbor. Distraction needed." Molly drew an aggressive circle. "You're on Wilkinson. I'll handle Hendersons and the loot." "Wilkinson. The 'cat up a tree' routine again?" Bill brightened. "Too common. The last 'cat' involved the fire department rescuing *you*. Thinking misdirected garden gnome delivery. Or a *very* convincing UFO sighting." Bill’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights, the clown horror momentarily forgotten. "UFO! Yes! I've been practicing. '*Boop-boop-beep, take me to your leader, Earthling! Halt, meatbag!*'" He made exaggerated wobbly tentacle gestures, nearly spilling his coffee. Molly sighed, a deep, world-weary sound. "Just avoid public disturbance. The real challenge is extracting dozens of brightly wrapped boxes without anyone noticing their sudden disappearance." "My patented 'Presents-as-Party-Favors' deception?" Bill offered. "No. That involved stale crisps last time. Parents furious. I meant stealth. Subtle, quiet, professional." Bill glanced at a suspiciously lumpy, fluffy bag slumped in the corner, a very obvious pair of oversized bunny ears poking out. "Right. Stealth. So, the bunny costume is out?" "The bunny costume is *always* out, Bill," Molly stated, her voice flat. "It brings back… traumatic memories." She took a slow, deliberate breath. "Stick to the plan. Get the presents. Avoid the slime. And absolutely no alien noises near Mrs. Wilkinson, unless it's the absolute, last-ditch Plan B. Got it?" Bill gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up, crumbs still clinging to his chin. "Got it, boss. No bunny, maximal slime avoidance, alien invasion for emergencies. We're gonna be rich!"