Molly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, staring at the bounce house inflating in the backyard of 42 Maple Street. "You really think this is worth it? Breaking into a kid's birthday party?" Bill adjusted his fake pizza delivery uniform. "Trust me. I saw the gift list on the mom's Facebook. We're talking PlayStation 5, three iPhones, and some designer stuff I can't pronounce." "I feel like we're reaching a new moral low here," Molly sighed, watching a clown struggle to carry his props through the front gate. "Hey, these suburban parents are basically asking for it. Who drops two grand on a seven-year-old's birthday?" A group of sugar-charged children ran screaming across the lawn. Molly winced. "So what's the plan? Besides making me feel like the Grinch's evil cousin?" "Simple. You distract the clown, I'll slip in through the back door during the cake cutting. Those helicopter parents will be too busy filming little Timothy's sugar high to notice anything." Molly pulled her baseball cap lower. "Fine. But if that clown starts making balloon animals, I'm out."