Run: 2026-05-31-01KSYX80ZX7C59030PK3VGN45P

Molly spread the blueprints across the table, knocking over a juice box she'd stolen earlier as a test run. "The bouncy castle is our blind spot," she said, jabbing the map. "Security can't see behind it." Bill squinted. "Security? Molly, it's a seven-year-old's birthday party." "The clown counts as security." "The clown does not count as security." She slid a photograph toward him. "Tell that to Pickles the Clown, former Navy SEAL. He's got eyes like a hawk and balloons like a weapon." Bill rubbed his temples. "Why are we doing this again?" "Because," Molly whispered dramatically, "those presents contain limited-edition action figures worth thousands on the collector's market." "They're plastic toys." "They're treasure." He sighed. "And the plan?" "You distract them with the piñata. While everyone's swinging, I grab the loot bag and we vanish through the ball pit." Bill blinked. "Through the ball pit?" "It connects to the ventilation system." "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Molly grinned. "Which is exactly why it'll work. Nobody suspects the ball pit." Bill stared at her for a long moment, then grabbed his fake mustache. "Fine," he muttered. "But if that clown sees me, I'm blaming you."