Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1G5JTF566G8CP6V7W5ESHS

Molly unfolded the blueprint across the hood of their van, smoothing it with both hands. "Okay, Bill, the bouncy castle is here," she said, tapping the paper. "That's our entry point." Bill squinted at the diagram. "Why are we going through a bouncy castle?" "Because nobody suspects a man crawling out of an inflatable dragon." "That's insane. We'll be visible to forty screaming children." "Children don't testify, Bill. That's chapter one of the handbook." He rubbed his temples. "We don't have a handbook." "We should. Anyway, the presents are stacked near the cake table, guarded only by a clown named Mr. Sprinkles." "A clown?" Bill paled. "You know I have a thing about clowns." "It's a children's party. Of course there's a clown." "Can't we steal from a quiet party? Like a funeral?" Molly stared at him. "Funerals don't have presents, you absolute amateur." "They have flowers." "We can't fence flowers!" Bill sighed, grabbing the smoke bombs. "Fine. But if Mr. Sprinkles so much as honks a nose at me, I'm out." "Deal," Molly grinned, pocketing two juice boxes for the road. "Now grab the loot bags. They're shaped like unicorns. Try to look festive." "I hate this job," Bill muttered.