Molly slipped on her black latex gloves and flashed a look of concentration at Bill, who was juggling a plate of finger sandwiches and a cup of lukewarm tea. "Okay, so we hit the Johnson's party at seven, right? Their kid's birthday is tomorrow, so they're sure to have a bunch of presents wrapped up under the tree." Bill nodded, his eyes never leaving the miniature sandwiches for fear of them falling apart. "Got it. And we get in, grab the loot, and get out before the parents start asking too many questions." Molly's eyes sparkled with mischief. "And what about the presents themselves? Are they as exciting as we expect?" Bill checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "Well, mostly balloons and socks. But there might be some decent candies and tech gadgets in there too. We can flip them on the black market for a quick buck." Molly snorted. "You're such a mercenary, Bill." Bill held up his hands, offended. "Hey, someone's got to keep us afloat. Now, shall we go in and start collecting some riches?" Molly grinned and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Then let's go make little Billy's birthday dreams come true – in a really obvious and overt way."