Molly adjusted her oversized rainbow wig and examined herself in the rearview mirror of their beat-up sedan. The face paint made her look like a demented clown who'd escaped from a fever dream, which was precisely the point. Beside her, Bill struggled with his balloon animal kit, producing what appeared to be a deflated dachshund with serious self-esteem issues. "I still think this is our stupidest plan yet," Bill muttered, wrestling with the squeaky latex. "And that's saying something, considering last month you wanted to rob a bank dressed as Girl Scouts." "That was a solid plan! Nobody suspects cute little cookie sellers." Molly applied another layer of red lipstick that made her mouth look like a crime scene. "Besides, have you seen what rich people spend on their kids' birthday parties? Little Timmy Henderson is turning eight, and his parents hired actual ponies. Ponies, Bill! The gift table is going to be a goldmine." The suburban street stretched before them, lined with manicured lawns and houses that probably cost more than they'd stolen in their entire careers. Children's laughter echoed from the backyard of the Henderson residence, where colorful balloons bobbed in the afternoon breeze like tiny, optimistic prisoners. Bill finally managed to create something that vaguely resembled a giraffe, if giraffes had suffered recent traumatic injuries. "What's our exit strategy? Because 'run really fast while dressed as entertainers' doesn't inspire confidence." "We blend in, perform for exactly twelve minutes—enough to seem legitimate but not long enough for anyone to realize we're terrible at this—then I create a distraction while you grab the goods." Molly practiced her maniacal clown grin, which made several passing joggers cross the street. "What could go wrong?" "Famous last words from the woman who once got stuck in a pet door during a heist." They watched as more cars pulled up, disgorging small humans clutching brightly wrapped packages. Each gift represented potential profit, and Molly's eyes gleamed with avarice behind her painted mask. "Remember, we're Giggles and Sparkles, the premier children's entertainment duo." She grabbed her oversized flower that squirted water and checked her watch. "The real entertainers don't arrive for another hour, giving us the perfect window." Bill sighed and adjusted his polka-dot suspenders. "If we get arrested, I'm telling everyone you forced me into this." "Fair enough. But when we're counting our money tonight, you'll thank me." Molly opened the car door, her enormous shoes hitting the pavement with a theatrical slap. "Time to steal candy from babies. Metaphorically speaking." They approached the house with the confident stride of people who absolutely belonged there, despite looking like they'd raided a costume shop during an earthquake. The sound of children's excitement grew louder, along with Molly's heartbeat and Bill's increasingly creative cursing under his breath.