Molly drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, watching parents escort their sugar-rushed children into the gaudy bounce house venue. The parking lot was filling up fast with minivans and SUVs, each one presumably packed with wrapped presents for little Timothy's eighth birthday party. "I count sixteen gifts so far," Bill mumbled through a mouthful of stake-out donuts. "Plus whatever's in that massive box the clown just carried in." "A clown? You didn't mention anything about a clown," Molly hissed, instinctively shrinking lower in her seat. "What's the matter? Don't tell me the great Molly Matthews is afraid of a little face paint and oversized shoes." "I'm not afraid. I just have a healthy respect for anyone who willingly dresses like that on a Saturday afternoon." Bill wiped powdered sugar from his mustache and pulled out their hastily sketched floor plan. "Look, it's simple. You create a distraction in the main party room while I slip into the gift storage area. In and out in ten minutes tops." "And your brilliant distraction plan is what exactly?" "You're going to pose as a singing telegram." Molly turned to face him, her expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. "I'm going to what now?" "I got you a costume and everything. It's in the back seat." "Bill, I swear to God, if there's a clown costume back there..." "Relax, it's a gorilla suit." "Oh, because that's so much better! What am I supposed to sing?" "Happy Birthday, obviously. But like, in a gorilla way. You know, throw in some chest-beating and banana references." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "We've pulled off heists at museums, mansions, and that one really fancy pet store. How did we end up here?" "Hey, kids' presents are big business. You saw what happened last Christmas with those Giggle-Me-Elmo riots." "That was twenty-five years ago, Bill." "The principle stands. Besides, we're basically Robin Hood here. These kids are all spoiled brats anyway." "Says the man who just inhaled a dozen donuts." "Stake-outs require sustenance. So are you in or not?" Molly sighed, glancing at the growing crowd of party-goers. "Fine. But if that clown so much as looks at me funny, I'm out." "That's my girl. Now go suit up, and remember – really sell those gorilla noises." "I hate you so much right now." "Love you too, partner. And hey, maybe grab me a piece of cake while you're in there?" "You're pushing it, Bill." "What? It's not stealing if it's freely offered at a party." "We're literally here to steal children's birthday presents." "Yeah, but cake stealing? That's just wrong." Molly reached for the gorilla suit in the back seat, already questioning every life choice that had led her to this moment. "This is officially a new low for us." "Think of it as branching out into an untapped market." "Just shut up and get ready to grab those presents. And Bill?" "Yeah?" "If you ever mention this job to anyone, I'll tell everyone about the puppet museum incident." "You wouldn't dare." "Try me."