"Okay, Bill, listen up," Molly said, tapping a finger on the crumpled blueprint spread across the table. "This party's at the Joneses', two-story Victorian, massive backyard, probably ten-foot fence. We're not exactly breaking into Fort Knox, here." Bill snorted. "Easy for you to say, you're the one with the grappling hook." "Don't underestimate the Joneses, Bill. They're practically paranoid about their kids getting kidnapped by clowns. I bet they've got security cameras everywhere." "Cameras? Pssh. We'll be in and out before they can even blink. Besides, I've got this new disco ball mirror thingamajig. It'll blind those cameras faster than a sugar rush." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You bought a disco ball mirror thingamajig?" "Don't judge, it's state of the art. Now, are you gonna help me with this disguise or just stand there looking skeptical?" Bill held up a sparkly unicorn headband. "Fine, fine. But if we get caught because of your 'state of the art' disco ball, I'm blaming you." "Deal," Bill grinned, placing the headband on Molly's head. "Ready to make some loot out of little Timmy's birthday?"