"Oh, for the love of Pete!" Molly exclaimed, slamming the trunk of her beat-up Chevy. She glared at the lumpy duffel bag Bill had tossed in, making an already cramped space even more uncomfortable. "Since when do you need a 'costume' for a kids' party heist?" Bill emerged from the passenger seat, his pseudo-hero uniform already bulging around the middle. "Because this isn't just any party, Mol. We're talking high-stakes here - ponies, cotton candy, and a piñata full of cash. Gotta be prepared, y'know?" Molly rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smirk. Bill's delusions of grandeur never ceased to amuse her. "Right, the mystical 'piñata of cash'. And I suppose you got an invite to this shindig too?" "Nah, but that's where you come in, sweetheart," Bill replied with a waggle of his eyebrows. "With your stunning...how shall I put this?...assets, we'll breeze right in." Molly kicked at a loose pebble, biting back a vitriolic retort. "Gee, Bill, you sure have a way with words. So what's the play here? Distract the parents while you loot the gift table?" "Bingo!" Bill reached into his backpack, pulling out a mustard-colored beer helmet. "And this baby'll get me through any security. Nobody messes with a guy in a helmet!" "I'll say. They'll have to hose you down just to get you inside." Molly climbed into the driver's seat, fired up the engine. "Anyway, let's go case the joint. You're going down for resisting a mugging over my dead body." Bill whooped with laughter, scratching his stubbled chin. "That's the spirit! I always knew you had a heart of gold under all that grump. Just remember, Mol - it's not a real heist unless someone cries." "Says the man wearing a phallic foam hat," Molly muttered, lurching onto the road. "God help me." Bill grinned toothily, mashing his nose against the window. "Amen, sister. Now let's go steal some joy, one toy at a time!"