"This isn't going to be easy you know?" Bill said, nervously fidgeting with his plump fingers as he paced around the cramped and dimly lit safehouse. The walls were plastered with pictures of the target - a shiny red and gold castle that could be seen from a mile away. A half-packed bag full of useless tools and evidence lay on the small kitchen table. They sat hunched around it, looking ambivalent. "Is that the official worry talk?" Molly rolled her eyes and took a long sip from her beer. "Relax, we've stolen actual trucks so breaking into a few presents shouldn't be too bad." Bill, at the mention of stolen trucks squeezed his pillow for good luck but his nervousness was apparent. "Yeah, but t-then we actually noticed alarms and retinal scanning and had a truck to muscle it." He turned his head and motioned to the dusty tools and part-empty bags in front of them then flattened his tongue between his teeth, tensing. "I know, but criminals are stressful now aren't we, Bill?" She noticed his jaw clenched. Uh oh. Said in a hushed monotone. "N...N-no no, I'm not stressed at all!" You might be crying at any moment! Molly mentally chimed to herself. The poor guy can barely hit a tin can without crying. Suddenly... Bill fumbled for the 'chrome-plated-kitten-shooter' toy that had been atop the kitchen table. It was now yo-yoing down to the floor with each apology for every muscle that tensed then relaxed in his palms as his heart hammered out a conga beat on his ribcage. "Are you crying?" Molly asked, looking suspiciously at Bill as the beads of perspiration trickled down his furrowed brow. He was definitely on the verge of tears. "No!" Bill blurted as he pinched the stubborn yoyo between his thumb and forefinger and lifted it back to its resting place. SNOT WORTH IT! He thought to himself, grit his teeth forcefully, and jammed his hand into his other sleeve. The sudden movement caused his extra-digit that he had grafted onto his forearm 'accidentally' to activate securing a metal style glove around his hand. He was going to put up a fighting spirit, even if this plan turned to ash.