"Alright, let's run through it one last time," Bill said as he paced the small room. Molly sat cross-legged on the floor, idly picking at a thread on her tattered jeans. "We get in, we get the loot, we get out. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy." "Yup. We've been over this a dozen times, Bill. I think I've got it down," Molly replied with a hint of annoyance. "But do you know what kind of party this is?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow. "Uh... A kid's birthday party?" "That's right! And what do kids like at their parties?" Molly shrugged. "Games? Cake?" "Exactly! And presents! Oh, how they love their presents!" Bill rubbed his hands together greedily. "Bill, focus," Molly said, her tone exasperated. "We need to know the layout of the place. Where are the presents gonna be? Who's gonna be there? When do we go in?" "Right, right. I've got the whole layout drawn up here somewhere," Bill said, rummaging through a stack of papers on the rickety desk in the corner. He held up a crude sketch of a house. "Alright, here's the living room, that's where the party will be. Presents go on the table in the corner. Mom and dad will be in the kitchen, trying to avoid the noise. That leaves the grandparents and maybe one or two other adult guests." "And how do we get in?" Molly asked. "Simple. The front door. I called ahead, told them I was a clown and offered my services. They said they already had one booked, but they'd take my number just in case. I'll show up an hour early, say the other clown canceled and voila! We're in like Flynn!" Molly whistled low and long. "Damn, Bill, you're a genius." "Hey, what can I say? I'm the best in the business. Now let's get to work!"