Molly drummed her fingers on the coffee shop table, studying the birthday party invitation they'd swiped from the mailbox. "Look at this, Bill. Every spoiled brat in the neighborhood's gonna be there. That means mountains of presents." Bill slurped his latte nervously, leaving a foam mustache on his upper lip. The café buzzed with afternoon customers, masking their conversation. "I don't know, Mol. Stealing from kids feels... wrong." "They're trust fund babies. That little princess is getting three bouncy castles. Three!" He wiped his mouth with a napkin, crumpling it into a tight ball. "What's the plan then?" "We go in dressed as party entertainers. I've already got the clown suits." Bill's face went pale. "Clowns? I hate clowns." "That's the beauty of it. Everyone will be so focused on the performers, they won't notice us stuffing presents into our prop bags." The invitation fluttered as someone walked past their table. Molly snatched it quickly, tucking it into her jacket. "Fine," Bill sighed. "But I get to be the juggler. Those shoes you got look way too small."