Molly squinted at the blueprints, which, upon closer inspection, appeared to be a hand-drawn map of a bouncy castle with accompanying stick figures. “Are you sure this is the right place, Bill?” Bill, draped in a discarded superhero cape from the bin he’d just rummaged, pointed with a plastic pirate hook. “Of course it is! Look, the ‘X’ marks the spot. And that spot is clearly a garden shed labelled ‘Party Supplies – Do Not Touch Unless You Are a Grown-Up’.” “Right. And the target is a house filled with screaming children and their parents, all high on refined sugar and the delusion that they actually like each other.” Molly tapped her pen against a poorly rendered drawing of a gift table. “And these are the presents?” “Precisely. Untapped potential, Molly. Untapped potential.” Bill adjusted his cape. “Operation Sweet Sixteen, we’re calling it. Mostly because there are sixteen presents, and it sounds catchy.” Molly sighed. “We are stealing from children, Bill.” “They have too many toys anyway. It builds character.” Bill consulted a crudely drawn diagram depicting a child’s slide. “My intel suggests the best entry point is the inflatable unicorn. Less chance of triggering the laser grid.” “Laser grid?” “I’m assuming.” He shrugged. “Better safe than sorry when you’re dealing with the glitterati.”