Molly drummed her fingers on the coffee shop table, her untouched latte growing cold as she stared at the gaudy party invitation. Bill slouched across from her, cramming the remains of a blueberry muffin into his mouth. "A Puppy Pals Adventure party? Seriously?" Molly flicked the invitation toward Bill. "This is what we've come to?" "Hey, rich kids get rich presents." Bill brushed crumbs from his beard. "And their parents are too busy posting everything on Instagram to notice a couple of party crashers." The invitation's holographic puppies seemed to mock Molly as they danced across the paper. She'd pulled off heists at museums, casinos, and even a submarine once, but this felt different. "We're going to rob children, Bill. Actual children." "No, we're robbing their parents. Little Timmy won't even remember that third PlayStation 5 he was gonna get." Molly leaned back in her chair, watching a barista arrange cake pops in the display case. "What's our way in?" "I got us covered as party entertainers. You're now Whiskers the Cat, and I'm Doctor Bones the Clown Veterinarian." "You've got to be kidding me." "The original entertainers had an unfortunate bout of food poisoning. Amazing what a little strategic breakfast burrito can do." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "And the security system?" "Standard rich people setup. But get this – they're turning it off during the party because last time some kid set off the motion sensors while playing freeze tag." "Of course they did." Molly took her first sip of cold coffee. "Timeline?" "Party starts at two. We show up at one-thirty for setup. Parents stack all the presents in the pool house. While you're doing your cat routine, I create a distraction with my medical puppet show about proper puppy care." "This is definitely rock bottom." "During the chaos, you slip into the pool house, grab the goods, load them into our catering van, and we're out before they serve the cake." Molly studied the invitation again. "What kind of parents rent out an entire petting zoo for a six-year-old?" "The kind who buy their kid a solid gold Nintendo Switch." "Fine. But I'm not meowing." "You have to meow. You're Whiskers the Cat. It's literally in the job description I forged." Molly stood up, gathering her things. "I hate you sometimes." "Love you too, partner. Oh, and don't forget – you need to bring your own tail. The costume shop was out." "I'm starting to miss the submarine job." "Come on, that dolphin nearly killed me." "The dolphin was the only one with dignity that day." Molly headed for the door, then turned back. "Bill?" "Yeah?" "If there's a bounce house, stay out of it. We don't need a repeat of the carnival incident." "That was one time, and I maintain that those seven-year-olds started it."