Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95VVEPH367J4FVYEFA6DAX

"Did you pack the smoke bombs?" Bill whispered, adjusting his foam tail. "They're bubble machines, Bill. We aren't raiding a cartel." "Bubbles are tactical. They sting the eyes." "It’s a six-year-old’s birthday. We just need to blend in." "I'm wearing a sequined dinosaur suit. Is this blending?" "You look like a professional mascot. Hand me the blueprints." "It’s a crayon drawing of a bouncy castle, Molly." "Precision matters. The loot is in the Southwest quadrant, behind the organic juice boxes." "What if there’s a clown?" "We neutralize him with the high-velocity Silly String." "I don't like his baggy pants. He could be hiding a piece." "A piece of what? Pound cake? Focus. The haul is massive. There is a vintage-edition Lego set." "And the remote-control helicopter?" "That's mine. You get the neon Play-Doh." "Deal. Do I deploy the glitter grenades on entry?" "Only if the toddlers get unruly." "They’re always unruly," Bill muttered, checking his watch. "They’re caffeinated and emotionally unstable." "That's why we brought the juice bribes. Check your perimeter." "Perimeter is clear of parents. Let’s do this. For the plastic gold." "Masks on, Bill." "This dinosaur snout is incredibly itchy." "Work through the pain," Molly said, opening the gate. "Think of the Legos."