Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95GPJ7DEV77TKHQAKB2MM4

The attic was a shrine to failed enterprises, smelling faintly of desperation and old comic books. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of weak sunlight. Molly, perched precariously on a stack of forgotten board games that listed dangerously, scowled at a crumpled flyer depicting a smiling cartoon dinosaur. Her bandana was tied too tight. Bill sat nearby, picking listlessly at a loose thread on his threadbare, ketchup-stained jacket. His spectacles were askew. The distant sound of jubilant, high-pitched squealing was an affront to their professional sensibilities, a cacophony of innocent joy they were about to shatter. "Alright, Bill. The target: little Timmy's seventh birthday. Prize is the gift pile, located by the bouncy castle." "Presents? For kids? Molly, this feels too sticky. What if a kid notices our slightly-too-serious expressions and cries?" "That's your cue. Operation: Distracted Parent. When the clown starts juggling neon pins, you 'accidentally' trip over the decorative inflatable palm tree. Chaos ensues. I grab the loot while everyone's distracted by your theatrics." "A palm tree? What if it falls onto the face-painting station? And my theatrics always look suspiciously like actual panic." "Then we improvise. Just don't get caught admiring the glitter glue. Remember the objective: acquire the shiny things."