Molly unrolled the crayon-smeared blueprint across the hood of the stolen sedan, her expression deadly serious. The diagram depicted a suburban backyard with alarming detail. A gravity-defying castle of primary colours dominated the centre, labelled ‘The Bouncy Sentinel’. Bill, meanwhile, was trying to discreetly eat a bag of cheese puffs he’d shoplifted from the garage. “Alright, let’s run it one more time,” Molly said, tapping a spot marked ‘Payload’. “The objective is the complete acquisition of all wrapped presents. No exceptions.” Bill wiped orange dust from his chin. “Right. The loot. But I still don’t get why we can’t just wait until they all go home. Less… screaming.” Molly fixed him with a withering glare. “Amateur. The parental units enter a high-alert state post-party. The security perimeter tightens. Now, during the piñata bash, that’s our window of opportunity. The Sugar-Addled Horde will be completely fixated. It’s the perfect diversion.” She pointed at a stick figure wearing a cape. “This is our wildcard. ‘Captain Chaos’. Age six. Highly unpredictable. He guards the gift table with the ferocity of a rabid badger. Bill, you’re on Chaos duty.” “Me? What do I do? Challenge him to a staring contest?” “You engage him,” Molly explained, her patience thinning. “You ask him about his superpowers. You compliment his cape. You become his sidekick. Keep him occupied for ninety seconds.” “Ninety seconds? He’s a kid, not a bomb. What if he asks me my superpower?” “Tell him you can eat an entire bag of cheese puffs without breathing,” Molly snapped, snatching the bag from him. “Now, for the extraction. I’ll trigger the acoustic diversion device.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a giant, rainbow-coloured party horn. Bill stared at it. “That’s the… device?” “It’s multi-phonic,” she said defensively. “Once the Horde is disoriented by the sound, we grab the payload and make for the extraction vehicle.” She gestured towards a little red wagon with a squeaky wheel leaning against the fence. Bill’s eyes lit up. “A wagon? I get to pull the wagon?” Molly sighed, the sound of a woman who chose her partners poorly. “Yes, Bill. You get to pull the wagon.” “Awesome,” he grinned, already forgetting about Captain Chaos. “Can we get one of those flags that sticks up?”