Molly adjusted her wig in the rearview mirror, smoothing out any stray hairs that had slipped out of place. "Alright, Bill, got all the gear we need?" Bill nodded, his eyes fixed on the Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance. "Yeah, pinatas, BB guns, you name it. This party's going to be a goldmine." Molly snorted. "You're not even getting that excited for the presents." Bill raised an eyebrow. "Presents? Those little kid wrappings are garbage. We're talking diamond rings, cash, laptops... this is the mother lode." "Kids know about hiding things, Bill. It's like they have a sixth sense for security." "Speculate and he builds no castle," Bill muttered, quoting an ancient thief's proverb. "I swear, Bill, you love old sayings almost as much as you love kissing kiss-ups over Craigslist." Bill grinned. "Shh, don't tell the fence, Molly." Molly snickered. "Your butt's hairs were speaking for you." They pulled up to the suburban house with two kids yelling about going door-to-door for more candy. Molly and Bill high-fived. This was going to be the heist of their careers – or at least of each other's.