Bill adjusted his clown wig in the reflection of a plastic spoon. “Okay, so we blend in, grab the loot, and we're outta there before Tiny Tim can say 'pass the juice box.' Got it?" Molly stifled a laugh. "You and your code names. There’s no Tiny Tim at this thing, Bill." He waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details. What matters is we're about to be richer than a five-year-old on their birthday." Molly pulled a rainbow wig over her own head. "And how do you propose we pull this off exactly? These kids won't be distracted by a couple of clowns trying to make off with a mountain of presents.” “Distracted?" Bill chuckled, pulling out two large sacks from his duffel bag. "We won’t distract them. We'll give them the greatest magic show they've ever seen."