Molly stared at the invitation, her brow furrowed in thought. "You really want to hit a kid's birthday party?" "Think about it," Bill said, leaning back in his chair. "No security. Lots of wealthy parents. Presents galore." "But it's a children's party!" Molly protested. "That's just low." "Low? You're the one who suggested we steal a wheelchair last month," Bill pointed out. "This is practically noble by comparison." "I was drunk. And it was a Segway," Molly said. "Besides, the kid was using it to get around his house, not actually crippled." "Whatever. This party has the potential to be huge," Bill said, spreading out the invitation. "Look at this: 'Come celebrate little Timmy's 5th birthday at the exclusive Wonderland Amusement Park' - it's the fanciest park in the state. Only the wealthy can afford a party there. And check out the gift list: 'Presents should be wrapped in gold paper.' Gold paper, Molly! They're basically asking to be robbed." "But the security..." Molly trailed off. Bill had a point. Wonderland did have notoriously lax security, since the owners relied on their exclusive clientele to keep the riff-raff out. "Will be completely focused on keeping out gate-crashers," Bill finished for her. "They won't expect two professional thieves to sneak in, disguised as party guests, and make off with the presents. Besides, we'll be long gone before the birthday boy even blows out his candles." Molly sighed and rubbed her temples. Bill had convinced her with his harebrained schemes before, and they'd always managed to get away clean. "Fine. But you have to promise we won't touch the kid's gifts." "Deal," Bill agreed, clapping her on the back. "Now let's get to planning." Over the next two weeks, they pored over Wonderland's schematics, planned their disguises, and mapped out the party schedule. On the day of the event, Molly pulled up to the park entrance in a black minivan, wearing a blonde wig and a "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" t-shirt. Bill was dressed as a clown in an oversized bright orange suit. "I look ridiculous," Bill muttered, adjusting his wig. "You're supposed to," Molly said, pulling into a parking spot. "Now shut up and let me do the talking." They made their way through the front gates,