Run: 2026-04-24-01KQ0A90EWYXTPZSP2P7PNENK0

Molly spread the blueprints across the sticky kitchen table. "Alright, listen up. Operation Frosting Fiasco is a go. The target is 34 Maple Drive. A seven-year-old’s birthday party." Bill peered at the paper. "This is a drawing of a rainbow." "It's the backyard layout," Molly hissed. "The mark's called Timmy. Intel says he's getting a top-tier robotic dinosaur. That's our score." "A dinosaur?" Bill's eyes widened. "For a kid?" "That's the point, Bill! No one guards the loot. It's in plain sight. Our entry vector is through the back gate during the 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey' segment. The chaos provides cover." "Right. Distraction. I can do that." Bill nodded seriously. "I'll be the donkey." "No! You'll be in the bounce house," Molly corrected. "You'll create a diversion by... bouncing menacingly. I slip in, grab the presents, and meet you at the rendezvous." "The sandbox?" "The sandbox," she confirmed. "Now, remember your cover. You're 'Uncle Gary,' a distant relative. Try to look... vaguely familial." Bill attempted a warm, uncle-like smile. It looked more like a man with trapped gas. Molly sighed. "We'll work on that. Now, what's the password if we get separated?" "Frosting," Bill whispered reverently. "And it better be vanilla."