Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95GXV92RPTX5E6S17YZWVG

Molly ran a practiced thumb over a lock pick, its point glinting under the bare bulb. Bill, meanwhile, squinted intensely at their crudely drawn map on a cupcake wrapper. Their usual high-stakes glamour was absent, replaced by the persistent scent of stale donuts and the creeping absurdity of their mission in the dingy hideout. "Operation Sprinkle Snatch. Still a go?" Molly’s voice was low. Bill sighed, adjusting his spectacles. "Still calling it that? It's embarrassing." "Better than Project Sugar Rush. Intel?" she countered. "Little Timmy Henderson's seventh birthday. Presents near the unicorn piñata. Bouncy castle deflates at four-fifteen," Bill announced, tapping the wrapper. Molly arched an eyebrow. "Unicorn piñata? High-security? Patches, the guard dog?" "Golden retriever. Weakness for gourmet kibble and belly rubs," Bill explained. "Belly rubs? For *presents*? Bill, this is a new low." "It's for the challenge. And the sparkly ponies," he insisted. She paused. "Oh. The sparkly ponies."