"Alright, the usual spots?" Bill whispered, his voice like a cold breeze on a winter's night. "Five, seven, one, three," Molly replied, her eyes scanning the rundown apartment building across the street. "You know, usually, we hit by nine and run straight in." "Ack, don't be so sure about the running part," Bill corrected. "My grandma is parked out front with the fire extinguisher. She's got some sweet tricks up her sleeve." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You're still not getting what I'm used to, huh? Having to babysitize the grandma trick?" Bill shrugged. "Hey, it's better than nothing. What's the plan with the presents, anyway? You're not going to dig through the closet and get overwhelmed, are you?" "No, no. This way. Meet me at the guest house behind the park at eight. My cousin's got a fresh six-pack and he knows the spot. Afterward, we grab the presents and make our escape." Molly cracked a small smile. "And what's with the cousin plot? The Smith children's Party of the Century?"