Run: 2026-10-07-01M4ASMCSE97MGR1GJF3V4SFX5

Molly spread the crayon-scrawled map across the sticky kitchen table, her finger landing on a purple unicorn. The piñata was scheduled for four o'clock, the gift-opening frenzy for four-thirty. She wore a scowl reserved for cracking bank vaults, her manicured nails drumming a rhythm against the Formica. Bill adjusted his grandmother's knitted balaclava, peering over the wool rim with suspicion. His coffee sat cooling in a chipped mug beside lock-picking tools he didn't need for this job. "Toddlers with sticky fingers. We're taking candy from babies." "We're taking a Nintendo Switch and a pony. Check registry." "No shame in robbing kids." "There's no dignity in Crocs." Bill rubbed his temples, his brow furrowed deeply. "The kid has a trampoline. I got stuck then." "Disguise, Bill. You're the magician. I'm the face painter." "Did you volunteer me for balloon animals?" "I volunteered you to distract them. Professional." Bill sighed, cradling his lukewarm coffee. "Getaway vehicle? Honda with check engine light?" "Rented an ice cream truck." "Not subtle." "Neither is unicorn onesie, but we adapt." Molly grabbed her duffel bag, checking the zipper twice. "Meet at the dumpster at noon. Be punctual." "Wouldn't miss it. I've got destiny and a glitter bomb."