Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBJV5KH2AXX2VP3ETDRSKM8

Molly adjusted her tuxedo mask, scanning the backyard through binoculars. Balloons bobbed like colorful mines in the gentle breeze. Bill checked his watch, sweating despite the evening air. The piñata hung above the table, a sugary fortress guarding the loot. "Are you ready?" Bill whispered. Molly nodded, gripping a grappling hook. "Let's go." They moved silently across the lawn, dodging plastic dinosaurs. The music blared from inside, masking their footsteps. Bill climbed the oak tree, vines tangling around his boots. He reached the balcony railing, peering down at the cake. "Is it clear?" Molly asked. "Too many parents," Bill hissed. "We wait." They crouched in the hydrangeas, watching a clown juggle knives. The smell of burnt sugar and anxiety filled the air. Molly checked her lockpicks. Bill checked his pockets for the rations and snacks. This wasn't a bank job; it was a birthday massacre. Every wrapped box represented hours of labor, potential cash, or dangerous toys. "The clown is looking," Bill noted. "Just ignore him." They waited for the cake cutting. That was the window. Molly tightened her grip on the sack. Bill adjusted his mask. The heist of the decade began with a loud sneeze from a toddler.