Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ6ZWHHXP5ND1XYPKNG3N1BT

Bill adjusted his glittering tiara over a balaclava and smoothed the crumpled blueprint drawn on a grape juice box with grease-stained fingers. He crouched behind the hedge, knees trembling not from fear but from low blood sugar. Molly sipped her juice box through a reinforced straw, eyes scanning the backyard like a missile guidance system. She checked the tension on her slingshot, loaded with foam rubber chickens. "The target is the Smith residence. Loot in the living room fortress. Hostiles include a piñata and a clown named Giggles." Bill snorted, juice misting his mustache. "Giggles is a wildcard. Does he possess night vision?" "He's distracted by balloon animals. The real danger is the cake. Calorie-dense traps everywhere." Molly cracked her knuckles like popping bubble wrap. "I'll neutralize the clown while you grab the loot. How much are we talking?" Bill grinned, revealing a gold teddy bear tooth. "Three hundred dollars in gift cards, a drone, and the legendary LEGO Death Star prototype." Molly nodded slowly. "Risky. But for that LEGO set, I'd steal from my own grandma. When do we strike?" Bill checked his fused digimon watch. "When the juice boxes run dry. Chaos reigns. We strike."