Molly surveyed the brightly colored bounce house, a party in full swing within the walled yard of a suburban mansion. Bill stood beside her, dressed in a ridiculous getup, a faded Batman t-shirt and plaid pants. His dark hair was slicked back, showcasing a haircut only a hopeful grandmother could love. "What's with the outfit?" Molly whispered, raising an eyebrow. "Just trying to fit in," Bill said, grinning, "in case we need to pinch-hit for a mad uncle." Molly snorted and turned back to the party. They had been casing the joint for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The yard was a treasure trove of booty, wrapped and unwrapped alike. Molly's eyes widened at the colossal piñata hanging from the oak tree, like a gaudy foie-gras-filled goose just begging to be plucked. "Alright, here's the plan," Molly said, pulling out a compacted version of their manifesto and consulting it, "Bill takes care of the clown, and I make my way to the main stash behind the bounce house." Bill nodded enthusiastically, jamming his fists into the pockets of his hideous pants.