Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DAJH243C3V3FC5DCX1V5A9

The van idled behind the bouncy castle hire shop, headlights off, engine coughing like a retired pensioner. Molly tugged a balaclava over her curls and studied a blueprint she had sketched on the back of a pizza box. Bill leaned against the side door, licking frosting off his thumb. "Is that the cake?" Molly asked. "Reconnaissance," Bill said solemnly. "Quality control." Across the street, number twelve blazed with light. Balloons bobbed against the bay window, and somewhere a clown was shouting about musical chairs. Their target was a sprawling living room, a crackling fireplace, and forty-two presents wrapped in paper covered with cartoon dinosaurs. Security consisted of one dad named Gary, who had fallen asleep during the piñata and was now snoring into a bowl of crisps. Molly checked her watch. "Ten minutes until the sugar crash. Still snoring?" "Like a chainsaw," Bill whispered. Bill grinned and pulled a rubber chicken and a can of silly string from his jacket. He squeezed the chicken, which squawked loudly enough to rattle the gutters. Molly groaned, clamped a hand over his mouth, and dragged him toward the garden gate. Behind the hedge, a small figure in a dinosaur onesie pressed its face to the glass and held up a handmade sign: PLEASE TAKE THE PONY. Molly sighed. Some heists were simply too easy.