Molly leaned over the blueprint, tracing her finger along the layout. "Alright, here's how we do this. Bill, you take care of the clown. I'll slip into the party room and swap the presents with the decoys. Bill scratched his unshaven jaw thoughtfully. "I don't know, Molls. A birthday party for five year olds? It just don't feel right." Molly rolled her eyes. "Don't get sentimental on me now. Those 'innocent' kids will be rich brats someday, you can be sure. Might as well start 'em young." "Suppose so." Bill sighed, studying the diagram of the backyard. "What about the dog?" "That's your job too. Give the mutt a treat to keep him quiet. The kid's mom will be distracted with the cake and ice cream, shouldn't be a problem." "Uh-huh. What about the other kids? They might notice you rummaging through the gift pile." Molly snorted. "Are you kidding? Those rug rats won't notice if I set off fireworks in there. Too busy eating cake and whining about who got the most presents." Bill chuckled, despite himself. Molly always knew how to make him laugh. "You've got a point. When do we move?" "Saturday afternoon. I've got us two of those dorky adult party hats to blend in. We'll be in and out in five minutes tops." "And rich!" Bill grinned. He loved this part of the job, the planning, the anticipation. "Rich and on a beach somewhere, drinking fruity cocktails," Molly agreed. "Alright then, you've got your job, I've got mine. Let's get to work, partner." They high-fived and split to prepare for the heist of the year.