"Okay, we've got the layout, we've got the schedule, we've got the disguises. We've even got a fake mustache for you," Molly said, tossing Bill a bushy brown number. "I don't need a fake mustache," Bill said, catching it with a scowl. "Yes, you do. You look like a cop." "I am a cop. Was a cop. Retired." "That's the problem. You still look like one. You need to blend in with the other dads." Bill snorted. "I can blend in just fine without a 'stache. I can pretend to be interested in the bouncy castle." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You can't even pretend to be interested in a real castle. You barely lasted five minutes at the museum last week." "That was because it was so boring. A children's party can't be any worse than a bunch of old artifacts." "It can if there's a clown involved. Now put on the mustache." Bill sighed and stuck on the mustache. "How's this?" "Perfect. You look like a pedophile." "Thanks." Bill's voice was muffled by the fake hair. "Good. Now let's go steal some toys."