The schematic, rendered in shockingly bright crayon, was spread across the van’s greasy table. Bill stared, not at the diagram of the two-story suburban home, but at the meticulously drawn bouncy castle dominating the backyard. Molly’s finger, adorned with a sparkly ring she’d ‘found’ last week, tapped a cluster of stick figures swarming a paper-mâché donkey. The piñata, she whispered, is the key. A high-explosive diversion. While the sugar-crazed horde is scrambling for cheap candy, we breach the patio doors. Presents are by the fireplace. We’re in and out in ninety seconds. Bill rubbed his temples. “All this for Furbys and LEGOs?” Molly didn’t look up, instead circling a minivan parked down the street. “It’s about the principle, Bill. And the resale value of unopened LEGOs.” She then drew a little ‘Baby on Board’ sticker on the getaway vehicle. Perfect cover.