Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0425XKVWD7YW1J55QK495F

Molly traced the swirling frosting pattern on a discarded cupcake, her eyes gleaming with manic energy. "Right, the big haul. Presents. All of them. We'll need grappling hooks, obviously. Maybe a few smoke bombs for dramatic effect. And definitely matching ski masks, very festive." Bill sighed, polishing a bobby pin with his sleeve. "Molly, it's a five-year-old's party. Balloons, juice boxes, and one very stressed-looking Spider-Man piñata. Grappling hooks? We'll get tangled in the bunting." He peered through the van's dusty window at the suburban street. "Just grab the loot fast, avoid the toddlers, and for the love of Pete, don't trip over the inflatable castle." Molly bounced on the worn van seat. "But the entrance! Should we rappel from the oak tree? Or tunnel? Tunnels are always cool." She hummed a tuneless ditty, drumming her fingers on the dashboard. Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tunnels? In Mrs. Henderson's prize-winning petunia patch? We'd be buried alive by irate gardeners. Simple is best, Molly. In quick, out quicker. Like ninja librarians." He adjusted his slightly-too-large ski mask. "Focus on the presents. And no singing." Molly grinned, already plotting angles. "Oh, Bill, the presents will be singing a sad song when we're done! Hee hee!" Bill just muttered about bad puns and the sheer, terrifying chaos of tiny humans.