All eleven of us crammed into the closed fondue restaurant after dark. The place smelled like regret and melted gruyere. Marv unrolled a piece of paper with a big flourish. It was a placemat. "Behold," he said, "the layout of Fromagerie Sublime." Lola squinted at it. "Marv, that's a kids' maze. There's a cartoon mouse in the corner." Marv folded his arms. "The mouse knows where the safe is."

Lola grabbed the placemat anyway. "Fine. If the mouse leads to the safe, we follow the mouse." She traced the crayon path to a doodle of a cheese wheel. "That's the vault. Probably. Marv, you're up front. Everyone else, try not to knock anything over."

We followed the crayon maze down a hallway to a door marked "VAULT" in fancy gold letters. "No way," breathed Lola. "The mouse was right." She pushed it open. Inside sat one enormous cheese wheel on a velvet pillow, glowing under a spotlight.

As we stood there admiring the cheese, a cheerful recorded voice played from the ceiling. "Thank you for visiting the Cheese Vault Experience! Photos are five dollars!" Lola's shoulders dropped. We weren't in a vault. We were in a tourist photo booth. So we shoved five bucks in the slot, crowded in around the wax wheel, and took the dumbest group photo of our lives. Best heist of the year.