Molly and Bill huddled around a makeshift table, a crude sketch of a school gymnasium layout before them. "Alright, here's the plan," Molly said, her slender finger tracing the paths they would take. "Bill, you handle the perimeter. Make sure no one notices our entry." "Got it," Bill nodded, his messy brown hair bobbing with the motion. "But what's with the heavy artillery? Chainsaws and grappling hooks for a school party?" "Not for the presents, numbskull!" Molly rolled her eyes. "Those are for the bounce houses. That's where the real cash is at." "So you're telling me parents are hiding thousands in those things?" Bill looked skeptical. "Think about it, not kid wants to part with their bouncy fun. Parents can't get away with being buzzkills. That's where they stuff the cash, bet my life on it." Bill frowned. "You researched this?" "Damn straight I did." Molly tapped a bony finger to her temple. "Spent a week staking out little Jimmy Wilson's party. Found three grand in the bounce castle alone." Bill's eyes widened. "Nice! But what if some kid starts bouncing around?" "We got a solution for that too." Molly pulled out a packet of itching powder. "Smear this on the entrance, they'll be all chaffed up in no time." "Brilliant," Bill grinned. "Love your evil mind." "And here I was worried you'd lost your touch." Unfolding a newspaper, Molly revealed row after row of tiny, novelty horse toys. "Now let's get our cute on. Time to steal some presents and dent some young'uns hopes."