"Right, so the plan is simple," Molly said, tracing a finger across a crumpled diagram of a suburban backyard. "We hit just as they're starting the cake. Parents distracted, kids sugar-fueled, security nonexistent." Bill squinted at the diagram. "We’re gonna waltz in like guests, grab the presents, then waltz out? Gotta be more subtle than that, Molly. Don't want any awkward questions about the stolen Wonder Woman action figure." "Subtle? Bill, this isn’t robbing the national diamond collection, it's a kiddie birthday bash. We blend in, grab the loot, job's done. Toddler chaos is our cover." Bill tapped his chin. "You're right, I suppose. But what about the dad? Seen him playing paintball in the alley, looks like he's got a chip on his shoulder, y'know, 'protect my son's party' type." Molly snorted. "Don't worry about Richard 'Gunslinger' Patterson. I've got a backup plan. A distraction, shall we say?" "And what, exactly, is this magical distraction?" "Let's just say, a small orchestra of interpretive dancers featuring eight dancing pinatas." "You… you're serious? Molly, seriously?" "Dead serious, hon. Now let me show you how to fashion a teddy bear sack."