"So, Molly, you got the clown costumes?" Bill whispered, peering through binoculars at the bouncy castle in the backyard. "Better. I got us jobs as the entertainment. We're officially 'Molly and Bill's Magnificent Balloon Animals.'" "You don't know how to make balloon animals!" "How hard could it be? Twist, squeeze, poof—giraffe!" Bill lowered the binoculars. "This is a six-year-old's birthday. They're savages. They'll smell our incompetence." "Relax. We go in, do a few magic tricks, scope the present table, then you create a distraction while I stuff the good stuff in our prop trunk." "What kind of distraction?" "I don't know. Release doves?" "We don't have doves!" "Fine! Fake a heart attack or something." "In front of children?" "Educational opportunity. CPR awareness." Bill sighed. "There has to be an easier score than this." "Thirty kids, averaging four presents each. That's like... a hundred presents! We can flip them all before Christmas." "And if we get caught?" "We say we're from the North Pole. Quality control inspectors." "That's the stupidest—" "Got a better idea?" "Unfortunately, no."