Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95G210CXFTYKGB8WWWBB34

Bill traced a worn finger across the smudged diagram taped to the wall. “So, ‘Operation Sugar Rush Apocalypse,’ Molly? We couldn’t just call it ‘Timmy’s Birthday Bash Grab’?” Molly bristled, gesturing dramatically at the haphazard sketch of a suburban house. “Bill, this isn’t just a ‘grab.’ This is a precision strike against the very heart of childhood consumerism! A grand strategic maneuver worthy of a tactical genius!” “It’s a four-year-old’s birthday party in a cul-de-sac,” Bill deadpanned, rubbing his temples. “They’ll have balloons and probably a slightly deflated bouncy castle. The biggest threat is likely a rogue sausage roll.” “You underestimate the enemy, Bill,” Molly countered, jabbing a finger at a circled area marked ‘Presents – High Value Target.’ “The parents will be distracted by sparkling rosé and passive-aggressive conversations. That leaves the kids! A horde of sugared-up, miniature agents of chaos, armed with party poppers and the desperate need for attention!” “Right. And your plan to neutralize this ‘horde’? Disguise ourselves as giant cupcakes and waddle in?” Bill leaned back, arms crossed. Molly scoffed. “Please. That’s far too simplistic. My primary infiltration method involves a modified leaf blower. I distract the adults with a sudden, localized autumn-like event, while the secondary team – you – slips in dressed as the world’s most unenthusiastic party mascot.” “Unenthusiastic?” Bill sputtered. “Molly, if I have to wear that mangy unicorn head again, I’m going to personally un-horn it and shove it into your… your tactical leaf blower.” “It’s effective camouflage! Nobody questions a sad unicorn at a children’s party. It practically screams ‘underpaid student,’” Molly insisted. “Once inside, you locate the presents. Standard procedure: large, unmarked duffel bags.” “And what about the Clown Threat?” Bill pointed to a hastily drawn, menacing stick figure with a huge smile. “Mrs. Higgins always hires that guy, Barry. He’s got eyes everywhere. And he’s unsettlingly good at balloon animals.” Molly paused, considering. “Barry… Yes, Barry presents a unique challenge. His emotional manipulation via twisted latex could break lesser operatives. My proposal: a diversionary tactic. You could challenge him to a balloon animal duel. Humiliate him publicly.” Bill stared blankly. “A balloon animal duel? Molly, I can barely tie my shoelaces without adult supervision, let alone craft a realistic poodle.” “Details, Bill, details! What matters is the chaos! While Barry’s focus is split between his artistic integrity and your pathetic attempts at a swan, I’ll be utilizing the ‘Glitter Bomb’ protocol.” “The glitter bomb…?” Bill slowly repeated, eyes widening. “Molly, you’re not seriously going to spray glitter everywhere, are you? We’ll be tracing sparkly, adhesive evidence all over the county!” “It’s a tactical distraction, Bill! A cloud of shimmering misdirection! The ensuing parental panic over stained carpets will be our window of opportunity! By the time they realize the presents are gone, they’ll be too busy lint-rolling their children.” Molly beamed, clearly proud of her convoluted genius. Bill sighed, rubbing his face. “You know, for two people who once infiltrated a bank vault blindfolded, stealing a plastic tea set and a few Lego boxes feels… anticlimactic.” “Nonsense!” Molly declared, puffing out her chest. “It’s about the challenge! The art! Besides, I heard Timmy’s getting that new Atomic Robot Battle Station. We can finally settle last week’s argument about who gets to control the laser cannon.”