Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ952SPW80WVDFPGB4C9N50C

Check the schematics again, Bill. The bouncy castle provides a three-minute blind spot. Molly, it's a giant neon dragon, not a mountain range. Exactly. The guards won’t see us through the inflatable wings. The guards are kindergarteners in capes, and they’re vibrating from a sugar high. Which makes them unstable. We breach the gift table at precisely 14:00 hours, right as the double-fudge cake hits the table. Is the clown an issue? Bill asked, adjusting his sunglasses. Giggles? He’s the diversion. Once the balloon animals start, the perimeter dissolves. If he switches to card tricks, the crowd thins and we’re cooked. I’m not wearing the tactical tutu again. It’s suburban camouflage! You blend in with the garden ornaments. It itches, Molly. What’s the expected haul? Lego sets, drones, and maybe a high-end tablet if Timmy’s grandma is as loaded as the intel suggests. What if a toddler latches onto my leg? You shake them off and keep moving. No distractions. It’s a scale-model backyard, Molly. We're robbing a seven-year-old. It’s the score of century, Molly whispered, pointing at the crayon-drawn map. Once the piñata explodes, it’s go-time. I just hope there’s a Nintendo in those boxes. Stay sharp, or you’re getting juice boxes for dinner.