B reakfast was the first item on the agenda for the daily briefing before entering the job. “You better not think about eating too much today” warned Bill. “You know how stuffy your throat can get when you’ve eaten too early. And I will not have you gagging in the middle of the clarinet for Halloween,” the only clarinetist of a seemingly broke dixieland duo that started their musical product line with Christmas carols. “Both of us sure I’ll get that stuffy voice you talk about” replied Molly, stirring her coffee with a bitten pencil. “Since your grandmother gave me the clarinet instead of a Yu-Gi-Oh Starter Deck, funny how you find ways to make me responsible for it.” “Most likely, but you keep up with it better than I could,” said Bill. “I thought it would be a nice gesture.” “Kind of like your face,” said Molly. “A nice gesture” is an understatement since it looks like inflated kindergartener’s crayon drawings of butts. “You know ugly is better than broke, and homeless, and dead, right” came a gravelly voice. It was Ralph after all. “So after you two are finished shooting insults over your coffee, would you like to tell me what we're doing today?” “Sure sir,” said Bill. “We're breaking into an amusement park as part of a thousand megaton heist! Using flash-bang grenades, daring parkour maneuvers, and an incorrectly spelled plan so ambiguous that our German teacher would be made to write his English being part of the hooray “"). ”Hooray indeed,” said Ralph in a redoarberb roughly signifying number 3 in the zodiac “that you two just want to play hero.” “Well sort of old-timers like you don't really go over well with kids” was all Molly could manage to say before Bill interrupted. Oh good grief I forgot I'm supposed to bring the red nose in for the final act* he prodded vaguely toward the large box of hastily-planned things in the middle of the room.