Molly rifled through the sheets of hand-drawn map nervously, her eyes unfocused. "So, the main entrance and side one are guarded, this back door seems to be our best bet. There's got to be more than a hundred kids inside, with their overly-caffeinated parents. A perfect cover for us." Bill peered over her shoulder, his brow furrowing as he chewed on a toothpick. "Alright, here's the plan. We've got an hour until bedtime, and we've got to nab those gifts, especially that Star-Bright robot everyone's whispering about. I'll distract with a ventriloquist act. You do the heavy lifting while I keep 'em occupied." Molly's laughter resonated through the cramped van. "Don't joke about that, you sound like a dying goose. No one'd mistake that for a toy." She leaned in and chuckled, patting him on the arm. "Oh, but if you can pull it off, that'd be a real treat." Bill winked, adjusting his wig. "Just remember, you're going for the Star-Bright. Once we've got it, dump all the other loot in the sack and high-tail it out the back. If anyone's watching, pretend you're a people-monitor. No one pays attention to those, unless you're actually spying on parents." "Got it. Then, we'll meet at the car, right?" She checked her disguise in the rearview mirror, a purple clown nose askew. "Let's just hope these old clown outfits don't outfit our rap sheets." Molly cocked her head to the side and struck a pose. "Now, name's 'Scratch' if you need me." He chuckled, mimicking her pose in his red-and-yellow getup. "You the life of this heist, or what? My name's 'Twist'. Now hit it, we've got a few minutes before the big show." They clapped gloves together and darted out of the van, grins wide in anticipation. In unison, they mouthed, "Happy birthday, little Timmy," as they approached their quarry.