When the Wizard of MOS and Binny the MOBOT hit scavenger mode, the city doesn’t stand a chance. Gloves snapped tight, eyes gleaming with mischief, they roll out like a demolition derby of delight. Dave mutters from the doorway, mortified, “You’ll be seen!” but once the hunt begins, there’s no stopping them.

Bins line the kerbs like treasure chests, and Binny’s wheels squeak with anticipation. The Wizard grins, “Tonight we take no prisoners.” And it’s true — once they’re in search mode, no one gets in front of them. They swoop on pizza boxes, crushed cans, broken mugs, and snapped garden gnomes with the ruthless joy of pirates raiding a galley. Every clatter of Binny’s lid is a victory drumbeat.

By day, the MOSmobile prowls op shops, garage sales, flea markets, estate clearances, and swap meets. Ramp down, Binny rolls out like royalty, scanning tables with robotic precision. A chipped platter? Claimed. A box of smalti shards? Seized. A pile of oddities no one else wants? Captured for MOS glory. Shoppers barely have time to blink before Binny’s beak snaps and the Wizard’s stash grows.

Back at the studio, the haul is sorted with giddy reverence. The stashroom door creaks open, the Mosaic Bug cackles, and another day’s spoils are tucked safely away. The hunt is half the art — the laughter, the squeak of wheels, the thrill of spotting sparkle where others see rubbish.

Binny and the Wizard don’t just collect shards; they conquer them. They take no prisoners, they leave no treasure behind, and they roll through Brisbane with the gleeful ruthlessness of mosaic marauders. In the world of MOS, scavenging isn’t sneaky — it’s celebratory. It’s the dance of discovery, the art of seeing treasure in the overlooked, and the sheer joy of knowing that when Binny’s on the hunt, nothing useful escapes.