Run: 2026-09-01-01M1EN0J5BPMH9QF014FJ100Y7

Molly pulled her burglar goggles low and spread the map across a grimy dumpster. "Party starts at three, but toddlers are defenseless at two-thirty." Bill leaned against a mailbox, chewing a toothpick. "Juice-box hour. Sticky fingers ruin merchandise." "We're stealing presents, not juice," Molly said, jabbing a clown icon with her pen. "Slip past the piñata zone and exit via the bounce house." Bill frowned at the paper. "That bounce house is a death trap." "Only if you land wrong." She held up sparkly gloves. "I bought disguises. We are Uncle Fun and Aunt Giggles." Bill stared at her bow tie. "You look like a clearance-rack mascot." "And you look like someone who forgot pants," Molly retorted. "Plan: gift table, neutralize security—" "What security?" "One grandmother with a Nokia phone, binoculars, zero training." Bill sighed, adjusting his fedora. "If caught, I blame you." "We won't, because I am brilliant." She clicked her clipboard. "Split fifty-fifty. You handle teddy bears; they squeak." "I hate squeaks." Bill checked his watch. "Move before the magician arrives." Molly tied a bow tie and straightened her collar. "After you, Uncle Fun." Bill groaned, following her into the sunlight, muttering that this was worse than mime school.