Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCTP777Z4ZQN41E77A7ZS01

Molly whispered, "We strike at three." Bill checked his stopwatch. "During pinata annihilation?" "Exactly. Total chaos." "What about security?" "A hyperactive golden retriever named Buster." "Lethal?" "Only if you're allergic to sloppy kisses." "Got the gear?" "Grappling hooks, night-vision goggles, and industrial trash bags." "Why trash bags?" "For maximum loot efficiency, Bill." "Should we wear all-black?" "Obviously. We are elite operatives." "Of petty larceny." "Artisans of acquisition. Now, review the target." "Master Lucas turns seven. His parents bought him the deluxe Lego Death Star." "I am going to crush it." "With your bare hands?" "With absolute glee. And maybe a crowbar." "What about the juice boxes?" "Leave the juice boxes." "Are you sure? High resale value on the black market." "We are master criminals, not monsters." "Right. Leave the juice boxes. Take the ponies." "Ponies aren't real, Bill." "The little plastic ones, Molly." "Oh. Right. Grab the purple one with the sparkles." "Naturally. Are we taking cake?" "Only if it's chocolate." "Obviously."