"You can't be serious, Bill. A kid's birthday party?" "Think about it, Molly. Rich parents, thirty kids minimum, that's at least thirty expensive presents sitting there." "It's low, even for us." "Low? It's brilliant! Everyone's distracted by the clown—" "There's a clown?" "Yeah, I got the intel from my cousin's neighbor's dog walker. Professional party, all the stops." "I hate clowns." "Perfect! You'll be extra motivated to get in and out fast. Look, we slip in through the back while they're doing the cake—" "How do you know when they're doing the cake?" "Birthday parties are like clockwork. Games, presents, cake, more games. We hit during cake. Everyone's singing, taking pictures—" "Of their kids, Bill. Their innocent kids." "Who'll get more presents next week when the insurance pays out. These people are loaded." "You're a monster." "A monster who's going to fence a bunch of PS5s and iPads. You in or not?" "... What time's the party?" "Two o'clock. Wear something pink. It's a princess theme." "I hate you." "Love you too, partner."