Molly adjusted her cat- burglar mask, which, in a delightful ironic twist, had tiny whiskers and a pink bow. “So, the bouncy castle is our diversion, right?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. Bill, consulting a hand-drawn blueprint of the suburban backyard, chewed on the end of a crayon. “Precisely. Little Liam’s fifth birthday. His parents spared no expense on this shindig. The ultimate target: the pile of presents under the life-sized unicorn piñata.” Molly scoffed. “Unicorns. Honestly, Bill, this whole thing is absurd.” “But lucrative, Molly, lucrative!” he chirped. “Think of the mini drones! The LEGO Death Stars! The sheer volume of themed stationery!” “And the sugar rush from the stolen cupcakes we’re going to consume on the getaway. Don’t forget that crucial detail,” Molly added, already picturing a chocolate frosting mustache. Bill tapped the crayon on the blueprint. “The main objective, however, remains the presents. The strategic deployment of the rainbow-themed smoke bomb should give us ample cover to snatch and dash. Then, a quick zip-line egress over Mrs. Henderson’s prize-winning petunias.” “We’re using a zip-line? For children’s presents?” “It’s about style, Molly. Always about style.”