Molly fidgeted in her seat at the dilapidated diner booth, glancing at her watch for the hundredth time. Across from her, Bill, her partner-in-crime, slurped on his third milkshake and flipped through the day's newspaper. "Damn it, Bill! How can you eat that crap before a job? We're supposed to be stealthy," Molly hissed. "What? This protein shake's gotta go somewhere, Molls," he said with a wink, gesturing at his nonexistent biceps. "Protein my-" "Shh!" Bill whispered, putting down his spoon. "We're on a clock here, sweetheart. The boss wants us to hit that kid's party by 2:00 sharp." "I know, I know," Molly grumbled, sipping her black coffee. "It's just... stealing from kids, Bill. I dunno." "Oh, c'mon, Red. It's just a few toys. Besides, rich kids, remember? They'll have enough toys to fill a damn orphanage." "Whatever," Molly mumbled, her guilt not quite assuaged. "So, how's the plan again?" Bill wiped the milkshake off his mouth and leaned in. "Alright, so we'll park the van two blocks away. You'll be in position here," he said, pointing at the map, "and I'll go as the clown." "You're gonna be the clown? Fine, but no water balloon tricks, got me, J