Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ03KK6X9GHDP060CZK8H1HJ

Molly unrolled the blueprints across the table, though calling them blueprints was generous—they were crayon drawings she'd lifted from a refrigerator door in apartment 4B. Bill leaned over, squinting at what appeared to be a stick figure guarding a mountain of brightly wrapped boxes. "The target is 42 Maple Drive," Molly whispered, tapping the drawing with a red pen. "Three o'clock sharp. That's when the clown does his naptime routine." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You've done your reconnaissance." "Two weeks of intense surveillance," Molly confirmed. "I attended three birthday parties in that neighborhood. Ate so much cake I nearly blew our cover." "Did you identify security?" "Two dogs. One grandfather. One bouncy castle operator who looked suspicious but turned out to just have a bladder condition." Bill nodded approvingly and studied the drawing further. "What about the noise discipline situation? These events can get loud." "The kids scream on a predictable pattern. Screams at present time, silence during cake, then more screaming when little Timmy opens that plastic drum set." Molly shuddered. "We need to be in and out before the percussion starts." "Getaway vehicle?" "I borrowed a minivan. Puts us right under the radar." Bill straightened up, cracking his knuckles. "This might be our finest hour." "It's definitely our weirdest," Molly admitted, rolling up the blueprints. "Let's go steal Christmas."