The silence in the room was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant sounds of muted laughter and clinking cups from the children's party they were planning to break into. Bill tapped his fingers on the maps of the venue spread out across the table. "It's too much," Molly said quietly, biting her lip. "There are too many rooms and too many guards of those fat bastards. We could get caught." Bill sighed and sat back in his chair, legs stretched out and hands interlaced on his broad chest. He studied Molly intently. "You're getting cold feet." He voiced an observation rather than a question. She nodded, eyes flitting around the room. "I don't want to be that person." He cocked an eyebrow. "The person who gets caught and can't even get a job at McDonald's after?" Molly sighed and tied her hair into a ponytail. "It's not about the money." She stamped her foot as if to punctuate every word. "It's about the not being stupid." Bill held her gaze silently. "I hate children," he said at last. "I hate them even more than I hate dogs." She grinned, a small spark of hope igniting in his eyes. "Exactly. It's the same general idea. Smash their fancy toys and stuff."