Molly tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the laminated blueprint spread across the van’s dashboard. The interior smelled faintly of old crisps and desperation. Her gaze was fixed on the suburban house opposite, where a swarm of screaming six-year-olds were attacking a piñata shaped like a grinning dinosaur. The air itself seemed sticky with sugar. "Okay, one more time," Molly said. "Magician's finale. Smoke machine gives us cover through the patio doors." "Did you see the size of that bouncy castle, Mol? It's shaped like a fortress. A bouncy fortress. Do you think they'd let us have a go?" Bill stared, his face pressed against the grimy passenger window. "Bill. Focus." She jabbed a finger at the blueprint. It was a crayon drawing she’d sweet-talked out of the birthday boy, Timmy, last week at the park. His architectural skills were frankly abysmal, but it showed the all-important route to the present pile. "Right, right. Patio doors. What about their security system?" "It’s a beagle named Patches. I've got a squeaky toy filled with bacon grease. He'll be our best friend." "Genius." "The magician is our primary diversion. 'Magnifico Marvin.' He's terrible. The parents will be too busy cringing to notice us." "Do you think he knows the cup-and-balls trick? I love that one." "We are not watching the show, Bill." Bill sighed, fogging the glass. Inside, Magnifico Marvin was pulling a string of limp, rainbow-coloured handkerchiefs from his sleeve. A small boy in a paper crown, the mark, looked utterly unimpressed. Beside a vast, brick fireplace, the mountain of presents sat unguarded, wrapped in paper covered with cartoon superheroes and smiling planets. "So we grab the pile and go? Simple." "Grab the big ones first. We’re looking for the 'Galactic Mega-Fortress Lego' set and the 'Turbo-Drone 5000'. Those will fetch the most on the forums." "But what if there's a Stretch Armstrong? I always wanted one of those." "We are not keeping a Stretch Armstrong. This is a professional operation." "It feels wrong, Mol. Stealing from little Timmy." "He pushed me off the swings last week. This is justice. Now, what's our 'go' signal?" "When Magnifico Marvin saws his assistant in half." "And what if he doesn't have a saw? Or an assistant?" Bill chewed his lip. "When the kids start crying because the cake is all gone?" "Close enough," Molly sighed. "Let's go steal some candy." She pulled on a pair of black leather gloves, the picture of professionalism. Bill, meanwhile, put on a crumpled party hat he’d found under the seat, adjusting it to a jaunty angle in the rearview mirror. He was ready.