Molly drummed her fingers on the coffee shop table, leaving greasy fingerprints from her half-eaten croissant. Her partner Bill sat across from her, hunched over a crude drawing of what appeared to be a bounce house surrounded by stick figures. "Look, all I'm saying is that the Rodriguez kid's birthday party is our best shot," Bill whispered, jabbing his finger at the paper. "Fifteen kids means at least thirty presents. Rich neighborhood, so we're talking iPads, gaming consoles, the works." Molly rolled her eyes and took another bite of her pastry. "Because stealing from children is exactly how I wanted to spend my Saturday afternoon." "Hey, kids are resilient. Besides, their parents' insurance will cover it." Bill reached for Molly's croissant, but she swatted his hand away. "The party starts at two. Parents will be too busy taking pictures of the magician to notice us slipping in through the side gate." The autumn breeze rustled through the outdoor seating area, sending their napkins flying. Molly caught them mid-air, her reflexes sharp as ever. A skill that had come in handy during their previous jobs, though none quite as morally questionable as this one. "And your brilliant plan is to dress up as party clowns?" She raised an eyebrow, brushing crumbs from her leather jacket. Bill leaned back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Not clowns. Catering staff. I already got the uniforms from that restaurant supply store on Fifth." He pulled out his phone, showing her a photo of two pristine white serving jackets. "Great. Because nothing says 'trustworthy' like two strangers carrying boxes of presents to an unmarked van." Molly crumpled her napkin and tossed it onto her empty plate. "That's why we're using the ice cream cart. Nobody questions the ice cream people. We wheel it in full of rocky road, wheel it out full of Xbox Series X." A young mother walked past their table, pushing a stroller. Molly waited until she was out of earshot before responding. "And the bounce house drawing?" "Distraction. I may have scheduled a small power outage that'll hit the bounce house's air pump. When everyone runs to check on their screaming kids, we make our move." Molly sat in silence for a moment, watching a group of pigeons fight over a discarded french fry. "You know what the worst part is? It's actually not a terrible plan." "Does that mean you're in?" She sighed, reaching for her coffee. "Fine. But if we get caught, I'm telling them this was all your idea. And I want the Nintendo Switch if we find one." Bill's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning - or more accurately, like a kid about to steal Christmas morning. "That's my girl! Meet me behind the Party Palace at one-thirty. And Molly?" He stood up, tucking the bounce house drawing into his jacket pocket. "Wear comfortable shoes. You'd be surprised how fast angry soccer moms can run."