Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95XBFWGR1KDTX5A8K2FB03

Molly adjusted her binoculars. "The inflatable dragon is our primary extraction point," she whispered. "The bouncy one?" Bill asked. "Exactly. It provides verticality and soft-landing capabilities. Now, what’s the status on the perimeter?" "The picket fence is only three feet high, but the toddlers are the real threat. They're erratic, Molly. Low centers of gravity, sticky fingers. If one tags me, the mission is toasted." "That’s why we’re using the cake as a tactical diversion." "The chocolate fudge?" "It’s a literal sugar bomb. Once the frosting frenzy hits, we move on the gift table." "My intel says a Lego Death Star is in those boxes." "High-value loot. I like it. You got the camo?" "I’m wearing this stupid cone hat, aren't I? I feel ridiculous." "No, you look like a disgruntled uncle. It’s the perfect disguise. Did you pack the suppression gear?" "I have twelve juice boxes." "Bribes. Good. When the singing starts, that’s our window. We breach the living room, bag the haul, and hit the dragon." "What if the clown is deep-cover security?" "Gary? He’s a part-time juggler, Bill. He doesn't have the tactical training to stop us." "I don't know, Molly. His shoes are huge." Bill checked his watch. "Ready."