Molly leaned across the rickety folding table, her dark eyes narrowed at the floor plans spread before her. The glow from the single bulb hanging overhead cast dramatic shadows across her face as she traced a finger along the blueprint. "So the presents will be in this corner of the recreation room," she said, tapping the paper. "Behind the snack table but before the balloon animals station." Bill slumped in his chair, nervously spinning a coin between his fingers. "Are we really doing this? Stealing from a kid's birthday party?" "It's not just any kid's birthday party," Molly corrected, straightening up. "It's the Wilkerson twins' party. Those little monsters get more expensive gifts than most adults see in a lifetime." "Still feels wrong," Bill muttered, catching the coin and pocketing it. Molly rolled her eyes. "Last week you helped me steal a parrot from that pet shop." "That was different! That parrot was being mistreated." "You named him Captain Crook and taught him to say 'hand over your valuables.'" Bill smiled wistfully. "He's got natural talent." "Focus, Bill. We need to time this perfectly." Molly pointed to another area on the blueprint. "Parents will be gathered here for the magic show at exactly 3:15. That gives us seven minutes to slip in through the kitchen entrance, grab the goods, and disappear." Bill scratched his stubble. "What about the staff? Won't they notice two adults raiding the gift table?" "We won't be adults," Molly replied, reaching behind her to pull out two garishly colorful costumes. "We'll be the entertainment." Bill's eyes widened. "No way. Absolutely not." "Yes way. I've already confirmed with the party planner that they're expecting Sparkles and Bubbles, the magical clowns." "I am not being a clown named Bubbles!" "Fine. You can be Sparkles." Bill crossed his arms. "That's not better!" "It's perfect cover," Molly insisted. "Nobody questions clowns wandering around at a kid's party. We do a few quick tricks, I create a distraction, you bag the presents, and we're out before anyone notices." "What kind of distraction?" Molly grinned wickedly. "Remember that special confetti cannon we used at the casino job?" "The one that released sleeping gas?" "Bingo." Bill buried his face in his hands. "We're going to knock out a room full of children." "They'll just take nice little naps! And when they wake up, they'll think it was part of the show." "And the parents?" "Will be busy watching the magic show in the other room. It's foolproof." Bill sighed heavily. "This is a new low, even for us." "Think about it this way," Molly said, gathering up the blueprints. "Those kids are getting the greatest gift of all—a story no one will believe. 'Remember when the clowns at our birthday party stole all our presents?' They'll dine out on that for years." "Or need therapy." "Therapy builds character," Molly replied, tossing him the Sparkles costume. "Now try this on. We need to practice your balloon animals."