Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ94YSBXZJQW9DNMYNVV4CDT

Molly adjusted her goggles, which were currently resting atop a pile of discarded juice boxes. Across the cramped van, Bill was struggling to zip himself into a plush Barney suit, his breathing heavy like a malfunctioning bellows. The target was a suburban home currently vibrating with the shrill shrieks of twenty caffeinated children. According to the blueprint, the payload sat unguarded in the sunroom, tucked behind a mountain of overpriced wrapping paper and decorative ribbons. Molly checked her watch. They had precisely twelve minutes before the arrival of the clown, a timing window tighter than Bill’s polyester dinosaur tail. The logistics were harrowing; one loose Lego on the carpet could compromise the entire operation, sending them both to the floor in genuine agony. Bill fumbled with his purple mittens, looking increasingly like a prehistoric casualty. He tripped over a bag of smoke bombs disguised as party favors. “The juice boxes are a primary tactical distraction,” Molly whispered, tapping the schematic. Bill grunted. “I cannot see through the snout.” “Focus, William.” “My tail is stuck.” She wondered if the mountain of plastic toys and expensive cars were worth the humiliation of working with a man dressed as a giant purple reptile.