Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCW5W36A63KW4R65FV542AX

"The party kicks off at seven?" Molly asked, zipping her jacket. "Seven sharp. Balloons, chaos, sugar-fueled madness," Bill said, checking his shoes. "Ideal cover. Nobody suspects the magician's assistant." "I'm not tying balloon giraffes, Molly. I'm here for actual goods." "Relax. Presents are stacked behind the bouncy castle. Eight boxes, pristine, expensive, wrapped in gold." "How do you know?" "Read the registry. Wealthy parents. One box is bike-sized, probably hiding a console inside." "Big money?" "Exactly. What's our entry plan, genius?" "You wear a cheap cape. I scream there's a bee in the punch bowl." "That actually causes panic?" "Absolute hysteria. Parents flee, kids wail, we grab velvet sacks and vanish through the patio gate." "What sacks?" "Red velvet ones. Festive camouflage for criminals with style." "Security presence?" "It's a preschool gala, Bill. The only authority is an uncle napping near chips." "Still low. Stealing from actual children?" "Children don't pay rent. We'll leave the piñata alone, I swear." "Cold-blooded." "Efficient. You driving?" "I drive. No wig, no tricks." "Deal. Six thirty sharp. Avoid cupcakes; they're weaponized with sugar. Then wait for cake." "Cake takes ages with toddlers." "Exactly. Gone before candles blow."