Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCVMQ70S4A8ZZT1YWPZT1RP

"I'm telling you, Bill, the bounce house is our entry point," Molly whispered, pointing her flashlight at the blueprints. "Are you insane?" Bill hissed. "The toddler patrol is guarding the perimeter. We'll be smeared in peanut butter." "We go through the bounce house, drop through the mesh netting, and grab the loot table." "What about the clown?" "I'll neutralize him with extra squeaky shoes. He won't know what hit him." "Genius," Bill muttered, adjusting his oversized black ski mask. "And the host?" "Distracted by the pinata collapse I scheduled for fourteen hundred hours." "You scheduled a pinata collapse?" "I loosened the rope, Bill. It's called tradecraft." "Fine, but if those kids catch us, I'm throwing you to the sugar-crazed wolves." "Deal. Do you have the tactical trash bags?" "Right here. Double-ply. Reinforced handles." "Excellent. We want every wrapped package in those bags before the cake is cut." "Even the giant plush dinosaur?" Bill asked, holding up his hands. "Especially the dinosaur," Molly said. "That thing's worth fifty bucks on the black market." "I love this plan," Bill grinned. "Let's ruin this seven-year-old's birthday." "For the loot!" Molly cheered softly. "For the loot!" Bill echoed.