Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ77BSPGMJRT455AS9FDVMZ6

Molly adjusted her scratchy polka-dot dress, itching like neonatal mosquitoes. Bill fiddled with a backpack straining against contraband glow-in-the-dark bouncy castles. They crouched behind a tinsel tree smelling of regret and artificial fruit punch. The muffled thrum of "Baby Shark" vibrated the floorboards, a rhythmic assault testing their resolve. Molly checked her wrist, revealing a laser cutter disguised as a digital calculator. Bill wiped sweat from his brow, smearing glitter across his forehead. Terror didn't stem from security cameras, but from the mandatory sing-along. Molly nudged him with a gloved elbow, eyes fixed on the cardboard rectangles promising unearned joy. She drew lock-picking tools from her cracker gun. Bill hovered over a smoke bomb disguised as a party favor, his knuckles white. A balloon arch wobbled precariously. Molly's gloves squeaked, echoing like thunder in Bill's ears. He checked the raffle ticket, his only cover. The child monitor crackled with menacing laughter. Molly gripped her taser disguised as a juice box, eyeing the door. Molly whispered, "Remember," "we grab the Lego Death Star and move. No games, no singing." Bill clutched his nose. "Don't make me blow up the piñata." Molly smirked. They held their breath before the door opened. The sugar-fueled riot approached. Time to strike.