Molly adjusted her cat-burglar beanie, which was inexplicably covered in glitter. “So, the bouncy castle… a diversion, or our entry point?” Bill, a man whose natural habitat was a dimly lit pub, squinted at the blueprints, smudged with what looked suspiciously like marmalade. “Definitely a diversion. Kids love to bounce. While they’re airborne, we’re airborne, but with more delicate footwork.” He tapped a crudely drawn circle labelled “Presents.” The target, a brightly decorated suburban fortress, hummed with the manic energy of a thousand sugar-fueled locusts. Loud cartoon music blared from the garden, punctuated by an unholy chorus of whistles and giggles. “And the clown?” Molly asked, a slight shudder in her voice. “Is he part of the plan?” Bill considered this, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “The clown… he’s an X-factor. Always an X-factor with clowns. I say we incapacitate him with kindness. Or, failing that, a well-aimed water balloon.” He grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. “Think of it, Molly. All those unopened treasures. The sheer… potential.” Molly’s eyes gleamed, a predatory sparkle beneath the glittery beanie. “Operation Birthday Bash Bust… commence.”