Molly and Bill huddled in the bushes outside the suburban home, peering out at the chaos of excited children playing in the backyard for Tommy's 8th birthday party. Glittery laser beams sliced through the air from toy space guns. The scent of hot dogs and cotton candy wafted over, making their mouths water. "You would think rich people could afford to hire a decent contortionist, wouldn't ya?" Bill muttered, nodding at the lackluster clown attempting to jam himself into a small box. "Pfft, amateur." "Yeah, it's an insult to the craft," Molly agreed. She checked her lock-pick set and then hid it under her sequined vest. "Okay, in 5, out in 10. Scan the gift pile, grab the best stuff, no spent batteries or krill-shaped toys. We're pros." A small girl in a frilly pink dress skipped over, trailing a tulle skirt. "Do you wanna play pin the star on the starfish an' GETBIEME?" Molly plastered on a smile. "Sweetie, maybe later! Your mommy paid us to keep everyone chill about the water table til she gets back with the makeup artist, mkay?" The child's face scrunched as she processed this. "Oh... kay." She trudged back to the squealing mass of children. "There's the birthday boy. Cake time, soon. Let's do this. Toss salad-in-a-bag, say I'm gonna go pow-pow!" Bill lobbed the water balloon at Tommy's head. The screams of delight were quickly drowned out by the resulting squall. When the father shooed the sobbing children inside for cake, Molly and Bill slid to the fat loot pile. Molly produced a short crowbar and wiggled it in the bowl lock on the block of presents. "You know that chick can't ski, right? Her sales ratings must be terrible," she panted as the lock cracked open. "Ikr? Pay the laborers better, skimp on the circus acts," Bill chortled, plundering the colourful boxes for tech and silver wrappings. The rip of skidding tires signaled mommy's return. "Baptism on the dance floor! Bring the doxie!" They ignored her calls as they shoved, grabbed, pivoted, and lobbed a fresh bag of swag into the running car. Bill careened down the driveway as Molly fired the window. "Get Kraken, get Kraken!" Bill laughed. He wiggled in a box of krill. "Best birthday EVER." Molly smiled. "I love this job."