“Okay, so you’ve got the intel, Bill?” Molly asked, leaning conspiratorially over the park bench. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a veritable goldmine of G.I. Joes and My Little Ponies,” Bill replied, adjusting his novelty fake mustache. “Twelve kids, all turning six, which means presents worth… at least a collective three hundred quid, if we’re lucky.” “Three hundred quid? For children’s gifts? We’re better than this, Bill.” “Don’t be a snob, Molly. It’s transferable assets! Think of it as a diversified portfolio of plastic and glitter. Anyway, the party’s at Mrs. Henderson’s, you know, the one with the prize-winning petunias and the yappy chihuahua?” “Oh, *her*. This just got interesting. What’s the layout?” “Bouncy castle on the front lawn, a magician named 'Magnifico Max' in the living room, and the presents… tucked away in the master bedroom, apparently. Mrs. Henderson’s very protective of her ‘display’ until unwrapping time.” “So, we’re looking at a daytime infiltration? High risk, Bill.” “Low security, Molly. Think of the chaos. Kids, cake, sheer mayhem. Nobody will notice us. I’ll distract Max with a request for ‘something sparkly’ while you slip past the petunias.” “The petunias are my biggest concern, honestly. That chihuahua is a close second. What about the parents?” “Too busy gossiping about school fees and who’s sleeping with whose gardener. We’ll be in and out before anyone’s finished their Prosecco.” “Prosecco. That changes things. A tipsy parent is an opportunity.” “Exactly! So, you’re in?” “Fine. But I get first dibs on anything with a battery pack.” “Deal.”