“You want me to do what?” Bill hissed, tugging his cap lower. “Party infiltration, Bill. We blend in. We nab the gifts.” “These are kids. They’ve got the sniffles. They eat paste.” “Exactly! No one suspects thieves at a pony party. We’ll be legends.” “I don’t do glitter. It gets in my beard. It stays for months.” “You’ll survive. It’s for the loot. Did you see that pile? Giant gift mountain.” “We’ll stick out! I can’t even fit into a bouncy castle.” “Think positive. You’re tall. You could say you’re the magician’s assistant.” “I’m not wearing a cape.” “Bill, come on. What if we’re already in disguise? Party hats. Maybe a balloon animal or two.” “A balloon dog won’t stop an angry mom.” “No one suspects a guy handing out cupcakes.” “I’m not baking, either.” “Fine. Then you get the piñata. Bet it’s loaded.” “Last time I hit a piñata, candy hit me in the face. Hard.” “Should’ve ducked. Anyway, you’ll handle distractions. I grab the bags.” “So, you get the loot, I get trampled by toddlers.” “Teamwork. And we split the haul.” “Fine, Molly. But one sprinkle lands on me, I’m out. And I’m not singing happy birthday.”