Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFMHBE8KBXHS0A4YK8BD7XN

Molly hunched over the van's steering wheel, her eyes narrowed at the brightly decorated house across the street. "Perimeter's tight. Six-foot vinyl fence, motion-activated garden gnomes. Standard party protocols." Bill peered through binoculars, his breath fogging the lens. "I count at least thirty hostile minors. The target acquisition zone is saturated with helium balloons and unicorn cupcakes." "Focus," Molly hissed, tapping a detailed blueprint of a bouncy castle. "I go in through the utility access port by the sliding door. You create a diversion. Something theatrical. A dancing bear. No, a man dressed as a giant, depressed ice cream cone." "Got it," Bill said, pulling a fuzzy, melting vanilla costume from the back. "But what's the payload? The haul?" "Intelligence indicates four premium Lego sets, two gaming consoles, and a lifetime supply of those plastic slap bracelets. We move fast, take everything that isn't nailed down or sticky. We're in and out before the 'Happy Birthday' song finishes." Bill adjusted his cone hat. "What if we're cornered? By, say, a pack of six-year-olds?" Molly's jaw tightened. "We use the smoke screen. Confetti bombs. They'll never see us escape amidst the chaos." She gripped the wheel. "This isn't a party, Bill. It's a heist. Now drive."