Molly adjusted the panda ears perched precariously on her head. "You sure this is the right place, Bill?" she whispered, peering through the gap in the hedge. From inside, the sound of tiny, high-pitched cheers drifted out, punctuated by the tinny strains of 'Baby Shark,' played with alarming enthusiasm. Bill squinted at the gaudy banner proclaiming 'Princess Penelope's 5th Birthday' in glittery pink letters. "Positive," he hissed back, adjusting the oversized clown nose that had somehow managed to shift crookedly on his face. "The intel was solid, bottom drawer, back corner, unsupervised." Molly shuddered. "Poor kid. Imagine waking up to an empty present pile. It's almost unethical." Bill scoffed. "Don't get sentimental on me now, Mol. It's just candy and plastic tat. Think of it as redistributing the wealth." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of lockpicks, grinning wickedly. "Operation Sugar Rush is a go."