Molly and Bill hunched over a large city map spread out on the kitchen table, their plan taking shape. They were no ordinary burglars, for they had set their sights on a more unique target: the children's birthday party their neighbor, Mr. Johnson, was throwing for his "precious boy" Tommy. The loot? Unopened boxes of toys. "Alright, so I'm coming in through the kitchen window," Bill said, his finger tracing the layout of the house. "You have access to the garden. We need to be in and out before Mrs. Johnson brings in the cake." Molly nodded, her eyes scanning the layout. "I'm more worried about the time. Two in the afternoon - half the neighborhood will be out. We need a distraction." Bill grinned. "Leave that to me. I've got a plan." "Care to share?" Molly raised an eyebrow, not entirely trusting Bill's grin. "Oh, you'll see. Trust me, it'll be... a scream." He chuckled at his own joke. "Funny," Molly deadpanned. "Right, so we get in, we grab the presents, we're out. Simple." "Well, it should be," Bill said, "but you know how these things go. Something always goes wrong." "Nothing's going to go wrong," Molly said firmly. "We're the best in the business. We're in, we're out, and we're rich. Well, at least, we'll have a mountain of toys." "And," Bill added, "an epic garage sale opportunity." Molly sighed. "I'm not sure if that's more exciting or depressing." "That's the kind of excitement we get at our age," Bill said. "Remember when we used to steal gull-wing Mercedes?" "Ah, yes," Molly said wistfully. "Time was, we dreamed of setting non-lethal fires to cover our escape from the Argentine Embassy. Now we're planning to steal from six-year-olds." "Such is life," Bill shrugged. "Trust me, it's still exciting. Tommy's got a Nintendo Switch on his list. If we pull this off, I'm playing Mario Kart!" "You're thirty-seven, Bill." "Twenty-five at heart," he insisted. "And have you considered what happens if we get caught?" Molly asked. Bill frowned. "Caught? Don't be moronic. It's a heist. We won't get caught." "Maybe not, but say we do," Molly persisted. "Imagine the headlines - Aging Burglars Arrested for Stealing from Children. We'd be world famous." "Hey, you'd like that!" Bill shot back mockingly. "Shut up," Molly snarled. "It's a good point. We need an alibi." "Epicament Bread, lining up across the street at 2:00," Bill grinned. "You're on hook-a-duck duty." "Hook-a-duck?" Molly asked. "You know, that thing where you try to grab foam ducks for prizes," Bill said. Molly shook her head. "You can't get ducks from a hook-a-duck at Epicament Bread." "It's a long name," Bill shrugged. "Maybe they do, maybe they don't. That's what I'm going to be wondering, while I'm crawling through their service window." Molly sighed. "You've got such a tragic name for things." "It's my charm, I tell you." "Right, so we've got our alibi," Molly said, trying to get things back on track. "Now, we need to make sure we actually have a way in." "I've got that covered," Bill said, already plugging a key into his computer. "I bet you do," Molly said, shaking her head. "What sort of lock were they thinking, leaving the blueprints on an undercover Instagram page?" "The price they'll pay for oversharing!" "And all for the honor of the big six-oh!" Molly raised her hands. "How the hell do they even afford a Level 3 Wizard of Karakos on a salesman's salary?" Bill grinned. "Jimmy Hoffa's ghost bless child support. They'll be the last to know why their little Tommy deserved such a present." "Don't people suspect?" Molly asked, studying the blueprints. "Oh, how d'you know," Bill said, "Maybe they're just really involved in...spawn support programs." "I don't ask for much," Molly said, "but I'd appreciate it if one time we could be honest." As Bill angled his neck in appreciation of her point, his phone buzzed. "Bingo," he said, a blush lighting his face. "You didn't," Molly said. "Oh, I didn't," Bill said. "Of course you did, you cat lover." "Of course I did," Bill said. Molly slipped the knife up to Bill's neck. "I swear," she said, "your lack of professionalism will be your undoing." Bill sighed. "Sorry, I wanted to spice things up a bit." "You're like a god damn fifth grader," Molly said. "Anyway, back to this lock." "Yeah," Bill said, "about that - I've been meaning to tell you something. The lock... it uses an entirely different system than what was on the blueprints I saw."