Molly drummed her fingers on the table, studying the birthday party invitation. "So the kid's turning six. What kind of security are we looking at?" Bill snorted. "Security? It's a bounce house and cake situation at the community center." "Don't underestimate suburban parents," Molly warned, tapping the glossy card. "Remember the McKenzie job? That mother had an actual security guard for her twins' birthday." "For stuffed unicorns and LEGO sets?" Bill shook his head. "This is why we're broke." Molly rolled her eyes. "We're broke because you spent our last score on collectible spoons." "Investment pieces," Bill muttered defensively. "Listen," Molly leaned forward, "we go in during the magic show. Everyone's distracted by the rabbit." Bill sipped his coffee. "What about the clown?" "There's always a clown." "Fair point," Molly conceded. "We'll dress as caterers. Nobody questions people with trays." Bill nodded thoughtfully. "You know, most people rob banks." "Banks don't have PlayStation 5s," Molly replied, folding the invitation carefully. "Besides, birthday presents aren't traceable." "True," Bill grinned. "And they come pre-wrapped."