Run: 2026-07-01-01KWEAGQJRV8BQC1ERXKMMDZNN

Molly slid the blueprint across the table, a crayon drawing of a castle with "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIMMY, AGE 7" scrawled across the top in glitter glue. "This is our target?" Bill squinted at it. "A seven-year-old's birthday party?" "Not just any birthday party, Bill. Look at that present pile. Twenty-three gifts, minimum. Probably a bike in there. Maybe a PlayStation." "We're stealing a child's PlayStation." "We're stealing a child's *potential* PlayStation. There's a difference." Bill rubbed his temples. "How do we even get in? There's gonna be, what, fifteen kids? Parents? A clown?" "That's the beautiful part." Molly grinned, pulling two rubber masks from her bag—one a dinosaur, one a unicorn. "We ARE the entertainment. I already told the mom I'm 'Sparkles the Unicorn' and you're 'Rex the Dance-osaurus.'" "I'm not wearing that." "You're wearing that." "Molly, I have a mustache." "Unicorns support facial hair, Bill. It's very inclusive." He stared at the mask, then at her, then back at the mask. "And the getaway plan?" "Bounce house. We hide the loot inside it, then just... roll it away. Slowly. Like it's part of the party." "That's insane." "That's *genius*, Bill. Now put on the horn."