“Okay, synchronize watches,” Molly said, pressing the button on her own cheap digital timepiece. Bill squinted at his bare wrist. “I’m more of an intuitive timekeeper.” “Just be ready in five minutes.” She adjusted the binoculars, focusing on the suburban backyard. “Target is a high-value asset pile, codename: The Hoard. It’s located next to the cake table.” “Is that a bouncy castle?” Molly sighed, not lowering the binoculars. “Yes, Bill, that is a bouncy castle. It is also our primary obstacle. It’s blocking the direct line of sight from the kitchen.” “Can we use it? For the exfiltration? We could bounce our way to freedom.” “We are not bouncing our way to freedom. We are going in clean, grabbing the goods, and getting out quiet. The point of entry is the side gate. Left open for the caterer.” “The guy with the sad-looking hot dogs?” “The very same. Now, the main security feature is an active agent, goes by the name ‘Puddles’.” “Puddles? Is that his name or a warning?” Bill asked, rummaging in his backpack. “He’s the party clown. He’s making balloon animals right next to The Hoard. We need to neutralize him.” “You want me to take out a clown named Puddles? Molly, I have standards.” “I don’t mean ‘take him out’. I mean distract him. I packed the water pistol.” “Ah, a classic misdirection. While I engage the clown in lighthearted water-based combat, you secure the packages. I like it. Very suave.” “Just don’t get drawn into a full-on battle. A squirt, a grab, and we’re gone. Remember the mission objective.” “What are we even expecting here?” Bill asked, suddenly serious. “Last time you said ‘heirloom jewels’ and it was a tiara from a dress-up box.” “My intel is solid this time. The birthday boy, Timmy, is ridiculously spoiled. There’s a seventy-dollar LEGO set—the big one, with the spaceship—and I have it on good authority there’s an electric scooter.” “A scooter? Now you’re talking my language. Still, what if it’s all just… educational toys? Or worse, clothes? Imagine we risk it all for a pile of hand-knitted jumpers.” “It’s a risk we have to take. Are you in or are you out?” Bill stared past her, a strange look on his face. “It’s not about the scooter, you know.” “Don’t tell me this is about your nephew again.” “No. It’s about Kevin Miller’s ninth birthday party back in ‘98. I wasn’t invited. He said my magic trick with the vanishing coin was ‘distressing the other children’.” Bill’s jaw tightened. “Every kid deserves a present. Especially me, who never got to see Kevin Miller’s undoubtedly awesome presents.” Molly stared at him. “You’re doing this out of petty, decades-old revenge?” “I’m doing this for justice,” Bill declared. She sighed, a long, weary sound. “Fine. For justice. Now grab the water pistol. Puddles looks like he’s about to start juggling.”