Molly and Bill crouched behind the rose bushes, their eyes fixed on the lavish backyard brimming with balloons, streamers, and an obnoxiously large clown that was parading up and down the lawn. “You really think this is gonna work, Molly?” Bill whispered, adjusting his too-tight ski mask that seemed more appropriate for a bank job than a birthday bash. “Of course it’ll work,” Molly replied, eyes glinting with mischief. “Who’d suspect a couple of clowns at a kids’ party?” Bill looked at her skeptically. “Clowns? We’re going as clowns?” “Yeah, I borrowed a couple of costumes from my cousin. It’s foolproof. Kids love clowns,” Molly said, barely suppressing her laughter. “Kids love clowns, but I don’t, and I’m not sure they love me back,” Bill mumbled, recalling a particularly hostile encounter with a pie-wielding toddler. “What’s the plan then?” “We blend in, Bill,” she explained, slipping into her multi-colored wig. “We mix, we mingle, and we grab the loot.” “Mingle with mini humans, got it,” Bill chuckled, slipping on enormous floppy shoes that squeaked with every furtive step. Molly rolled her eyes. “I mean, how hard can it be? Just honk your nose and pull a rabbit out of your hat or something.” “You brought a rabbit?” Bill hissed. “No, just an expression. Anyway, the presents are behind the cake. You cause a distraction, I’ll do the rest.” “And what’s my distraction?” “You’re a clown, Bill. Do some clown stuff. Juggle. Fall over amusingly. Maybe cause a small pie-related incident.” “I was afraid you’d say pie. Fine. But if I end up with pastry in my ears again…” “That’s the spirit,” she quipped, fastening her red-honk nose. “Ready?” “As I’ll ever be,” Bill grumbled, though there was a faint hint of a smile as he adjusted his polka-dot tie. Ambling toward the festivities with exaggerated sways, Molly elbowed him. “Remember, big smiles.” Bill stretched his grin into something that resembled a grimace. “Like this?” “That’s terrifying. Just let me handle the smiles.” “Got it,” Bill nodded, trying to keep his teeth from looking menacing. “Oh look, balloons! Should I… pop them maybe?” “Focus, Bill. Remember the plan.” “Right. Distract the kids, swipe the presents, don’t terrify them.” They reached the party, immediately swept up in a swirl of giggles and sticky fingers. Molly gave an exaggerated wave. “Hello, little ones! Who wants to see some magic?” A chorus of excited squeals nearly drowned out Bill’s defeated groan. “What kind of magic?” “The kind where I go poof behind the cake!” Molly winked and tiptoed away. Bill stumbled to the center stage feeling awkward and clownishly conspicuous. “Hey, kids! Look at this!” He grabbed a nearby pie. “Watch me juggle!” The pie didn’t juggle so much as fly directly into his face, prompting raucous laughter. Molly took the opportunity, slipping behind the cake table and snatching a brightly colored mountain of gift-wrapped treasures. “Time to boogie,” she whispered. Wiping cream from his eyes, Bill saw Molly’s signal and made a grand bow. “Well folks, that’s my time! Remember, always leave them wanting more.” Molly rejoined him, Santa-sized bag slung over her shoulder. “How’d it go?” “Like pie in the face,” Bill replied, grinning broadly now. Molly chuckled. “Let’s vamoose.” As they slunk back into the bushes, Bill muttered, “Next time, can we just rob a bank?” Molly laughed. “Nah, where’s the fun in that?”