Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1J9KFE95M5TSJ6ETHCJTCP

Molly adjusted her eye patch and studied the crayon-drawn schematics plastered across the fridge, sipping coffee from a mug shaped like a cat. Bill paced nervously behind her, his fake mustache slightly crooked. The plan was simple: infiltrate the chaos, distract the toddlers, and vanish with the loot. "Three o'clock sharp," Bill whispered. "The clown will have every adult completely distracted." "Bill, honey, clowns are a lawsuit waiting to happen. What about the piñata?" "Too messy. I want clean escapes, not sticky fingers chasing us down the street." "You overthink everything. I go in as 'Molly the Magician.' You wear the giant bunny costume." "Absolutely not. I have dignity." "Sweetie, you wore a diaper to that job last month." Bill's face turned the color of a ripe tomato, and he adjusted his Groucho Marx glasses in pure indignation, huffing like a teakettle. "The Windy City Heist required stealth! And I had crutches!" "Fine. You be the magician, and I'll handle perimeter security." "So basically you're chickening out." Molly sighed, stealing the last of his juice box and tossing it into her magician's bag, which contained rubber chickens, a whoopee cushion, and a confused parrot. "We leave in ten minutes, coward."