The fluorescent lights of the diner's ceiling overhead cast an unforgiving glare on the Formica table where Molly and Bill huddled, surrounded by scribbled-on napkins and the wreckage of a greasy breakfast. Molly pushed a sugar packet around with a spoon, her gaze fixed on the crude diagram Bill had drawn of the children's party venue. "Tell me again why we're doing this," Molly said, the spoon clinking a staccato beat as she spoke. "Come on, Moll," Bill said, "those little rugrats are going to be so distracted by the bouncy castle and the ball pit, they'll never even notice we're swiping the presents." "I'm not worried about getting caught by the kids," Molly said, "I'm worried about getting caught by the parents. Those suburban mommies are like a pack of wolves when it comes to defending their babies' birthday booty." "Those 'mommies' are going to be too busy gossiping and sipping Chardonnay to pay any attention to us," Bill said, winking. "Besides, we're not after the expensive stuff, just the small-time swag. A few Nerf guns, some sticker books... we'll be in and out in under 10 minutes." Molly raised an eyebrow. "That's still a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time. What's the signal to get out if things go sour?" "If I start singing 'Happy Birthday to You'," Bill said, grinning, "it's time to grab what we've got and bug out. Trust me, Moll, this is going to be a cakewalk. Those kiddie parties are like the candy store of heists – easy, sweet, and nobody takes anything seriously." Molly sighed, scrubbing a hand through her hair. "You'd think after all these years, we'd have better luck finding a score that doesn't involve ripping off five-year-olds." "Hey, someone's got to keep those Toy 'R' Us stock prices up," Bill said, shrugging. "Besides, it's not like we're depriving the little nippers of a good time – they'll still get to smash the piñata and eat all the sugary snacks they can stomach. We're just, uh, 'redistributing the wealth'." Molly rolled her eyes, tucking the sugar packet into a neat square. "Keep telling yourself that, Robin Hood. Just remember, the getaway car is parked two blocks away, in case things get hairy." "Got it," Bill said, stuffing the napkins into his pocket. "Shall we gear up and crash the party? Those kiddie goody bags aren't going to loot themselves..."