Molly and Bill sat in their rusty van, parked across the street from the brightly decorated house. The sounds of children's laughter and upbeat party music wafted through the air. Bill looked over at Molly, adjusting his tacky wig. "You sure about this, Mol? It's broad daylight. And there's kids involved." "Oh don't get all soft on me now, Bill," Molly scoffed, applying fire-red lipstick in the rearview mirror. "You said you were in, so let's do this." Molly slipped on her granny disguise - gray wig, floral dress, and support hose. She grabbed a British-style nanny bag bulging with hidden compartments. "Your coat's on the wrong way, dear," Bill teased. "Shut up, Bill. And get your saggy membership card outfit on. We'll just say we're here for our grandson." "Fine." Bill sighed, pulling on his pensioner garb. He tucked a fake hip into his pocket. They shuffeled across the lawn, Bill's fake shoes clattery on the stepping stones. When they rang the doorbell, a woman answered, taking them in with a quizzical look. "Can I help you?" "We're here for li'l Timmy's birthday party," Bill said with a quivery voice. "From Granny and Grandpa, see?" He held up a sadly shrivelled bunch of flowers. "Oh, wonderful! Timmy will love that." The woman ushered them inside to a kid-pandemonium scene. Molly and Bill exchanged a meaningful look as they spied the large pile of presents in the corner. As the festivities continued, the duo made their move. Molly busied herself organizing presents while Bill distracted the oblivious parents with his 'oh-so-silly' old man antics. Under the concealment of the gift table cloth, Molly's nimble fingers got to work lining her nanny bag with the fanciest toys. "Alright, time to go!" Bill said loudly over the racket of the games, causing Molly to drop a stuffed alpaca. They quickly shuffled toward the exit, the bag of booty swinging heavily at Molly's side. "Wait, you didn't say goodbye to Timmy!" the mom called as they reached the door. "Just a little raisin-chested, dear," Bill said offhandedly, thrusting out his fake hip. "Tell little Timmy-sauce that Granny and Grandpa will visit another day!" With that, the odd couple made a hasty exit into the dusk. They reached the van and took off with a screech of tires. Molly burst out laughing just as station sirens wailed in the distance behind them. "Ah, Bill," Molly giggled, "What a lark!" "That's what they call my old walrus bits, Mol." Bill snorted as he pulled the wig off his sweaty head. "And maybe we'd better stick to just the flipping houses from now on..."