Run: 2026-06-24-01KVX3EC4D6RS8E0FW7HEPV5MC

Bill adjusted his scratched binoculars, the worn leather strap creaking in the quiet, stuffy interior of the stolen catering van. He squinted at the suburban yard bathed in bright sunlight, tracking a golden retriever. "Are you absolutely positive this is the right target?" Bill asked. Molly tapped the faded blueprint spread across the dusty dashboard, her eyes never leaving the complex grid of paper while she chewed a toothpick. "Yes, Bill. The intercepted invitation clearly stated Timmy's seventh birthday extravaganza. Two o'clock sharp." "It's just... there's an inflatable dinosaur bouncy castle. And a clown." "The clown is our inside man. The castle is our entry point. We go over the fence, bounce in, and blend." "Blend in? We're wearing all black! We look like bank robbers." "We are ninjas, Bill. Kids love ninjas. Just say you're there to entertain." "I don't know magic. I know how to pick locks." "Then do a somersault and don't speak. The presents are on the patio table. We grab them, toss them over the gate, and I'll wheel the van around." Bill shifted in the driver's seat, his tight black tactical neoprene gear restricting his breathing. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "What about the parents?" "They'll be drinking wine in the kitchen and comparing lawns. They won't notice us." "What if they do?" "Then you do a somersault. Keep up." "I'll throw up if I do too many. I have a weak stomach." "Then don't do too many. Just enough to distract them while I load the loot." "Can I at least have a piece of cake?" "No. We are professionals. We don't eat the cake." "Not even a corner piece? Those have the most frosting. I love frosting." "Especially not the corner piece! That's Timmy's piece. You steal the presents, you don't steal the corner piece." He sighed heavily, tracing a calloused finger over the crude crayon map of the backyard obstacle course. "Seems arbitrary. We're stealing all his presents anyway." "It's not arbitrary, it's the code! We're thieves, Bill, not monsters. What about the piñata?" "What about it?" "When it breaks, there's a mad dash for candy. That is our diversion. We grab the gifts while the kids fight for Tootsie Rolls." Molly rolled up the blueprint with a practiced motion, securing it with a rubber band before tucking it into her belt. "Fine. When it breaks, we strike. But if anyone asks my name, I want to be Blade." "No. I'm Crimson Viper. You're Shadow Fang. Get your grappling hook ready." "Molly, it's a six-foot fence. I can literally just step over it." "We use the grappling hook! Crimson Viper and Shadow Fang do not step over fences like peasants!" "Okay. But if I get stuck up there again like at the retirement home..." She shot him a withering glare that shut down his protests, her hand resting on her tactical knife. He gulped, reaching for his heavy grappling gear. "You won't get stuck. Hook it, climb up, and somersault into the castle." "That's two somersaults. I told you about my stomach." "Hold it in until we get the loot in the van. Move out." "Yeah?" "Don't touch that corner piece."