"We've done some pretty rough jobs," Molly said, examining the building blueprints, "but stealing from kids? That's low even for us." "It's not just any kids," Bill replied, munching on a stale donut. "These are Riverdale Heights kids. Trust fund babies whose parents buy them designer everything." "Still feels wrong." "Remember what those same rich parents did to your brother? Foreclosed on his house during chemo?" Molly sighed. "Fine. What's the plan?" "Simple. You dress as the backup clown. I'll be the caterer's assistant." "A clown? Seriously?" "Perfect cover. Nobody questions a clown at a birthday party." "And the gifts?" "Service entrance leads straight to the gift room. We'll need three minutes, tops." "Security?" "One bored guard who spends most of his time watching sports on his phone." "Escape route?" "Through the kitchen, into the waiting van." "What if someone recognizes us?" "Makeup, wigs, the works. We'll be invisible." "And if it all goes wrong?" Bill grinned. "Then we run like hell and blame it on the real clown."