"Are you sure you can do this, sis?" Bill glanced nervously over his shoulder for the third time, craning his neck to check in through the window of the kid's bogus birthday party. "The guests all seem pretty prissy. What if they make a scene when we come after those birthday presents?" "They won't have time, they'll be nine kinds of distracted by the time I hop on the trampoline." Molly adjusted the strap of her gleaming pink knit suit, flexing her muscles to show off her physique for the kids. "You really think this will work? Cause if you do, I'm still not sure why me of all people has to stay and guard the door. That's like dovetailing archers behind the nearside formation. We could both be soaring over their heads doing, you know, something useful." "Well Bill, the knaves will be sneaking and jiving the Claus while the Lil' Jessies are moping and popping, worried their Jones can't keep calm and start attacking those elves' Auntie Beattys." She gave a sympathetic look to Bill. "Now, get to that door, you've got my back, right?" "For the anniversary of Mag-_goo_-, this is not how it really works…" He trailed off with a sigh, staring helplessly a the kids playing around. "I guess there's nothing more for me but to handle the door. I'll get moved up to shoulder archers though, maybe even polearm carrying elves after we rake in those presents." "Not if I can't move my ego over my kneels, brother." She gave Bill a cocky grin and they shuffled around the corner. The kid's family watched the apparent birthday girl crossing the lawn, looking through the window in awe and schooled shock. Molly sighed and pulled off the knit bodysuit, turning it inside-out. "Well, still! I'd expected some kind of play. That's what you're here for!" "I'm sorry, but I'm nauseaous as well. You will receive some kind of present…" "But that wasn't the idea! Bare in mind, we are not interacting to make you feel good!" \*/\* Clancy shakes his finger to emphasize his words. Molly then stood back aloof and began gesticulating. Her cries dying out into indistinct bleating. \*/\* "What is she saying?" "She insists she's going to the police soon." "Okay, you're going! It will all be recorded!" "My will! Go to meme bourses, and check the gifts. - Bill." "/./" They emerged from behind a door, Molly motioning for Bill to open his hand to hold the golden ticket. As he extended it forward, motioning her to come closer, she shoved him lightly against the wall, pulling the ticket from his grip and leaving him turning away. Bill scowled angrily at the thundering sound of Molly exiting the room. "Well!" Bill stood there, his face still exhibiting a vacant expression this time. "You cannot just waltz in and demand something like this! There's no reason to ask me, you're clearly made to be a part of our crowd!" Molly held up the golden ticket, waving it in the air. "This is my job. And nothing goes right around you, all I feel is euphoria." "You don't send someone into the zone without training. Send Owen in, he took the best of your many training films." "Build up is the key right now to break through..." said a voice from above them and suddenly Molly whipped her head around to find Owen standing behind them. "You can see the results." "Sure." "So, is it me or the Bold Art president?" Owen bowed to the thieves. "I could fetch some things for you while you run out of the room." He handed Molly a sealed envelope, covered with bankstamped seals; "No City, darling." At this point, Molly looked hopeful. "Do not mention this." "Sure." Owen broke the wax seal, handing the envelope to Molly and disappearing basically into the ether. Molly winked mischievously to Bill as she stuffed the envelope inside her underwear. Her phone rang and she violently slung off her knit suit, burying it somewhere deep in the wall beforehand. "Thank you, phone man! See you in ... <span class="*- ...</span>" "I am on the speaker phone call now, the situation-" "-really is not a good reflection of my true personality and professionalism." "Mr. Walker, can you go to the police now?" "I am not supposed to be dealing with this, there's no way I could get sent back to jail." "What is it about?" "It's for the celebrities' agents! But," he sighed deeply, "and if you're a thief, they gotta take what they can get!" "Right, see you tomorrow, Bill."