Molly kicked back in the beat-up armchair, her boots propped up on the rickety coffee table. "Alright, so we're invading a children's birthday party," she said, twirling a lock of her curly red hair around her finger. "I mean, who wouldn't want to steal presents at a party? It's practically begging to be robbed." Bill, slouched in the mismatched sofa, took a long drag on his cigarette. A lazy grin spread across his scruffy face. "Honestly, Molly, you're cruising for a bruising. It's not just about the loot anymore. What if we get caught?" She scoffed and threw a peanut at him. "Caught? By a bunch of sugar-high kids and their equally addled parents? Please. We're professionals." "Their equally addled parents?" He chortled. "You're paying them the ultimate compliment." Ignoring him, Molly pulled out a crumpled map of the suburban neighborhood where the party was being held. "Right, so the house is on Elm Street. Two-story, clapboard, surrounded by what looks like a mini-trainwreck of a yard. Way too much orange and brown going on." "It's like a real life Corduroy house," Bill quipped. "Zip it. We'll arrive just before three. The party's scheduled to wrap up around four. Once the presents are opened, everyone will be too busy eating cake and singing Happy Birthday to notice us sashaying in and out." Molly drew a path on the map with her finger. "We'll enter from the back, through the fence. Check for alarms. If we're lucky, it'll be one of those houses with a crappy security system." "That's when our luck runs out every time." Bill grumbled, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray. "Hey, it's a risk we have to take. Now, I did some recon on the presents. Photos from the shitload of Facebook invites—there's a ton of tech goodies. Tablets, smartphones, games...the cops are going to love us after this." "Always thinking about the olds, aren't you?" Bill teased. She levied him with a stern look. "Well, yeah. I'm not interested in some overpriced doll or Risk board game. This is the gravy train right here." Bill nodded, his smirk fading as he pulled out his own map. "Alright, alright. I'll take the backyard route. You take the front." "One more thing," Molly said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Didn't you use to be terrible at parties as a kid? Couldn't stand all the noise and chaos?" "I'm still that guy," Bill admitted. "Well, then, it's a good thing you're steppin' up to ‘facilitate the situation’." Molly wiggled her eyebrows. "The chaos, that is." Bill rolled his eyes, though a momentary smile slipped through. "You're a sadist, Molly." She grinned. "Only when it comes to good heists." The pair shared a hearty laugh, bottomless in their confidence as the sun dipped low, signaling the beginning of an afternoon of plunder and peril. Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the map, a promise of chaos yet to come.