Molly drummed her fingers against the dashboard, watching through binoculars as another minivan pulled up to the McMaster residence. A woman in yoga pants wrestled a giant wrapped box from the back seat while her kid bounced excitedly beside her. "That's the eighth present in the last hour," Molly said, lowering the binoculars. "This birthday party is going to be a goldmine." Bill slouched in the driver's seat, munching on a stale donut he'd found in the glove compartment. "I still think this is low, even for us. Stealing from kids?" "They're rich kids, Bill. That present probably cost more than our monthly rent. Besides, little Timothy McMaster won't miss one or two gifts out of the mountain he's getting." "One or two? Last week you said we were taking everything." Molly shot him an exasperated look. "Obviously we're taking everything. I was trying to ease your conscience, you big baby." Through the windshield, they watched as more party guests arrived. The front lawn had been transformed into a carnival, complete with a bouncy castle, cotton candy machine, and what appeared to be a live petting zoo. "Who gets a petting zoo for their sixth birthday?" Bill muttered. "Exactly my point. These people have too much money." Molly pulled out her phone and checked the time. "Okay, here's the plan. Party starts at two. By three-thirty, all these suburban warriors will be sugar-crashed and watching the magician in the backyard. That's when we make our move." Bill shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What if someone spots us?" "That's why we're wearing the clown costumes. We'll blend right in with the other entertainment." "I hate clowns." "Everyone hates clowns. That's why no one will look at us twice." Molly reached into the back seat and pulled out two garish outfits. "I call the purple one." Bill stared at the orange monstrosity that would be his disguise. "The things I do for money. You know my therapist is going to love this story." "Your therapist already has enough material from the museum job. Remember the security guard's chihuahua?" "I thought we agreed never to speak of that again." Molly grinned and started applying her clown makeup using the rearview mirror. "Just think about the payoff. Those presents are probably worth five grand minimum. Plus, we're providing a valuable service." "How do you figure that?" "We're teaching these kids an important life lesson about materialism and disappointment. Really, we're more like philosophers than thieves." Bill snorted. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just promise me one thing?" "What's that?" "If that petting zoo has another chihuahua, we abort the mission immediately." "Deal," Molly said, drawing a red smile across her face that was somehow more menacing than cheerful. "Now put on your big boy pants and your rainbow wig. We've got some party crashing to do."