The air hung thick with the smell of sugar and impending chaos. Molly peered through the hedge, scanning the boisterous scene unfolding in the neighbour’s backyard. “Bouncy castle’s in place. Clown’s doing balloon animals. Looks like prime picking, Billy.” Bill, crouched low beside her, fiddled with the walkie-talkie attached to his faded denim overalls. “Roger that, Mols. Target: twenty-three screaming ankle-biters, average age four. Threat level?” “Minimal. They’ll be hopped up on cake and juice boxes. Easier than taking candy from, well, you know.” Bill snorted. “Don’t underestimate the cunning of a sugar-fuelled toddler. Remember what happened at little Timmy’s birthday?” “Hey, that was a rogue juice box, not my fault it exploded on your shirt. Besides, we got away with that haul of toy cars, didn’t we?” He adjusted the collar of his shirt, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, alright, point taken. So, what’s the plan, Captain?” Molly grinned, pulling out a map scribbled on a napkin. “Operation Birthday Bandit is a go. You create a diversion at the bouncy castle. Meanwhile, I’ll swoop in through the back gate, pilfer the presents, and rendezvous with you by the hydrant. Simple, elegant, foolproof.” Bill raised an eyebrow. “Foolproof? Remind me, who was the one who dressed as a giant chicken for that Easter egg hunt heist?” “That was one time, and it was a brilliant disguise! Besides, we got the eggs, didn’t we? Look, are you in or not? This is prime loot, Billy. Talking top-of-the-line building blocks, limited edition princess dresses, maybe even a miniature drum set.” He rubbed his chin, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Miniature drum set, you say? Operation Birthday Bandit just got personal.” “That’s the spirit! Now, go cause some inflatable mayhem. Time is money, or in this case, plastic toys.” Bill straightened his back, adjusting the ridiculous rainbow wig he’d insisted was crucial for “blending in.” “Let’s do this. For glory, and for loot!” He then added in a dramatically hushed voice, “Mostly for the loot.”