“Right, the target,” Molly said, tapping a finger against the the children’s party invitation. “Little Timmy’s seventh birthday bash. Bouncy castle, clowns, a magician named Marvin the Magnificent… probably mostly magnificent at making cheap scarves disappear, I reckon.” “And the loot?” Bill asked, a gleam in his eye. “Tell me the loot is worth facing down a gaggle of sugar-rushed seven-year-olds.” “A veritable treasure trove, my dear Bill,” Molly assured him. “Lego sets, action figures, video games – the works. And apparently, Timmy’s Aunt Beatrice, bless her oblivious heart, still thinks cash is a suitable present for a child. A crisp hundred-dollar bill, according to my intel. Times about twenty presents, at least.” “Marvellous. So, the plan?” “Operation Piñata Plunder. You, Bill, are our designated distraction. Think… overenthusiastic party guest. Maybe a little too good at musical chairs. Something to keep the parents busy while I make my move.” “I can do overenthusiastic. I can do surprisingly agile for a man of my… stature. But how do you get the presents out unnoticed?” “Ah, that’s where Marvin the Magnificent comes in. He’s booked for a two-hour show. I’m thinking we borrow his giant magic hat. No one ever questions a magician with a suspiciously full hat.” “Brilliant, Molly. Absolutely brilliant. As long as he doesn’t try to pull a rabbit out that hat once you’re done with it.”