Molly nervously adjusted her cat-eye glasses as she surveyed the back of the suburban home. Bill, ever the charming scoundrel, gave her a reassuring wink. "Relax, Mols. We've done more complicated jobs than this." "Complicated?" Molly squawked. "We're breaking into a children's birthday party. This is morally reprehensible." "Hey, those kids are going to cry anyway when they realize they didn't get the bike they wanted," Bill said. "We're just expediting the process." "Bill, what is wrong with you?" "What's wrong with me is that I have an apartment to pay for and my current gig at the Applebee's doesn't exactly cover rent." Bill checked his watch. "Twenty minutes until the piñata comes out. We need to get moving." "Fine. But if I get caught by a pack of sugar-high seven-year-olds, I'm blaming you." "Just pretend you're a clown, Mols. The kids will love you." Bill grinned as he produced a bright red nose from his pocket and slapped it onto Molly's face. "Seriously?" Molly yelped, ripping the nose off. "You brought a clown nose?" "Hey, you never know when you're going to need a quick disguise," Bill said sheepishly. Molly gave him a withering look before shouldering her bag and following him over the fence.