Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFED5CNBQKAGYHEE3D84NT2

Molly flattened the blueprint against the minivan’s dashboard, a crayon schematic smelling faintly of grape juice. Outside, the suburban house blazed with primary-colored lights. Balloon arches shuddered in the evening breeze. “Target acquisition,” she muttered, scanning the inflatable castle. “Twelve minors, maximum sugar rush in T-minus thirty.” Bill adjusted his tactical fanny pack. “Intel confirms a piñata shaped like a unicorn. Non-negotiable.” “Copy. You create the diversion. I’ll handle extraction.” The first phase went flawlessly. Bill, disguised as a bumbling magician, produced an endless stream of handkerchiefs from a toddler’s ear, creating a mesmerized cluster of small bodies. Molly, in a postal carrier’s uniform, slipped through the back gate. The presents were a mountain of gift bags and awkwardly wrapped boxes in the living room. She began the sweep, stuffing smaller items into her oversized mail sack. A high-pitched giggle from the hallway made her freeze. “New plan,” Bill’s voice crackled through her earpiece, now breathless. “The unicorn… it fought back.” Molly peered through the window to see Bill being gently but relentlessly pummeled by a group of children wielding a broken piñata stick, his magic wand bent in half. The glitter bomb had failed.