Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFJZ3YGKGNXCQRCJTJK33AQ

The warehouse smelled of stale popcorn and desperation. Molly squinted at the blueprint spread across the oil-stained table, its surface dotted with crayon drawings of balloons. Bill chewed his lip, tracing a finger along a dotted line marked ‘Clown Emergency Exit.’ “So, the cake is the distraction,” Molly murmured, tapping a circle labeled ‘Piñata Zone.’ “We go in during the chaos. Standard grab-and-vanish.” Bill grunted. “You ever seen twenty sugar-crazed seven-year-olds? It’s not chaos, it’s a tactical nightmare. They have a bounce house. A *bounce house*, Mol.” “Which is why you’re on bounce house duty. Draw their fire. Look menacing.” “Menacing? I’m wearing a fake mustache and carrying a sack labeled ‘Candy.’” He sighed, a long, weary sound. “This is for a Transformer and a tea set.” Molly finally looked up, a spark in her eye. “It’s the principle. And the cake. I heard it’s got sprinkles.”