Molly peered through the bush, flattening her polka dot balaclava. "Bill, do you see that clown? He’s got eyes like a hawk." "Relax," Bill whispered, ducking behind her. "Clowns can smell fear, but I came prepared. I rolled in cotton candy for camouflage." "You’re sticky enough already," Molly hissed. "Look, the presents are under the piñata. How do we grab them without alerting the sugar-high monsters?" Bill grinned. "Simple. I’ll start a balloon-animal distraction. Kids love wiener dogs, and I make a mean octopus." "Octopus? That’s not even a land mammal!" "Exactly. The confusion buys us time," Bill declared. "Plus, Brenda, age six, has a jelly allergy. I swapped the cake filling--the ensuing chaos’ll be our opening." "You sabotaged the cake?" "What am I, an amateur? Keep your eye on the purple gift bag. It rattled when I eavesdropped earlier—probably LEGOs." "Fine, but if we get caught, you’re explaining to my gran why I’m wanted for party-favor larceny." Bill winked. "She already thinks I’m a bad influence. Besides, in and out. Five minutes or less." "Remember: don’t trip over the magicians’ hat like last time." Bill frowned. "One rabbit, Molly. Never again." Molly smirked. "Let’s do this."