Molly leaned against the rough brick wall, her eyes fixed on the brightly colored bouncy castle visible over the garden fence. "Bill, did you hear me? It's a gold mine!" Bill, the other half of their partnership, stared at a half-chewed toothpick in his mouth. "What's what?" "The kid's birthday party. Stuffed animals, dolls, electronics, toys galore! They'll be handing us a dining table's worth of loot tonight!" Her lips curled into a grin. Bill shifted, then spat the toothpick on the ground. "But Molly, it's cute kids' toys. Not exactly bank-breaking stuff." "Oh get real, Bill, those Little Elsa dolls sell for top dollar. And the Model-T F-7500, that off-brand Xbox? Onion-cutting prices!" Her words dripped with sarcasm. "Every kid's got a model T-F-7500. What's your point?" Bill scoffed. "My point is, do the accessories math! Missions packs, special additions, inflated edition upgrades--that's where the money is, genius!" "I see your point, but...what about the kids?" "They're children, Bill!" "They can't defend themselves," she declared. "Think their Super Soakers will stop us?" "You mean their water guns?" Bill furrowed his brow. "How are we going into a party." She stood, tugging her jeans up to reveal her tres chic navy suit. "During cleanup!" She twirled and balanced on one shoe." Everyone's distracted leading the kids to dessert, they roll out trash bags, lo and behold! I walk in, one hundred percent chance that it rains." "Even if it rains, people use those black plastic table covers, Molly!" Bill grabbed the first clean shirt he found. "In Colorado? Nonsense." Her key hit the remote start and the car's alarm blipped and flashed his way. "It'll pour on them kids." "It never rains in the desert." Bill was resolute. "This little princess party is south of Denver. You think you know Colorado's weather?" Molly asked, raising an eyebrow at her partner. Bill suspended materializing out of his skin crawling right into her passenger seat. "We don't have to knock her out, Jesus take the wheel!" Molly dropped her phone. The windshield wipers slapping Slapped slapped. "It didn't rain last night...this is not me..." She closed her eyes, pulled the driver's side handle, and Barbie Champion-ily declared, "It rained last night! Get in the car, pal. We've got a heist to pull!"