Run: 2026-04-24-01KPZV02TRKQHYDK2WHRVVP56R

Molly spread the blueprint across the sticky diner table, jabbing a finger at the bouncy castle. "That's our entry point," she said. Bill squinted. "We're crawling through a bouncy castle?" "Under it. The deflation valve is our way in." "Molly, there's gonna be twenty kids hopped up on Capri Sun guarding those presents like feral raccoons." "Which is exactly why we need the clown costumes." Bill pushed his coffee away. "Absolutely not." "You said you'd do anything for this score." "I said anything reasonable. Clowns aren't reasonable. Clowns are a cry for help." She unrolled a second diagram, this one showing a six-tier cake. "The presents get stacked here, near the piñata. When the kids swing, we swing." "That's not a plan, that's a nursery rhyme." "You got something better, Bill?" He stirred his coffee aggressively. "Yeah. We wait until the parents serve pizza. Kids abandon everything for pizza. It's biology." Molly paused, considering. "Pizza ambush." "Pizza ambush." "I like it. But we're still wearing the costumes." Bill groaned into his hands. "Why?" "Because," she said, folding the blueprint with a grin, "nobody suspects a clown. Nobody wants to."