Molly crouched behind the hedge, adjusting her plastic tiara. "Bill, remind me again why we're dressed like birthday clowns?" "Because it's the perfect disguise!" Bill's oversized shoes squeaked as he shifted position. "Nobody suspects the entertainment." "Right, but explain to me how stealing presents from a seven-year-old's birthday party is going to solve our financial problems?" "You saw the guest list, Molly. The Pemberton kid goes to that fancy private school. Rich parents equal expensive gifts. We're talking iPads, designer clothes, maybe even jewelry." "Jewelry? Bill, they're children." "Trust me on this one. My nephew got a Rolex for his eighth birthday last month." Molly peered through the hedge at the backyard party. "Okay, I see about fifteen kids, three adults, and one very large dog that looks like it could eat us both." "That's just a golden retriever. They're friendly." "That thing is the size of a small horse, Bill." "Focus, Molly. The presents are stacked on that table by the patio door. We go in, I distract everyone with my amazing balloon animals, you grab the good stuff." "Your balloon animals are terrible. Last time you tried to make a giraffe, it looked like a deflated snake." "That was artistic interpretation." "It was tragic." "Look, do you want to keep living in that apartment with the leaky ceiling or not?" Molly sighed, her red nose honking softly. "Fine, but if we get arrested, I'm blaming you entirely." "We won't get arrested. What's the worst that could happen?" "Famous last words, Bill. Famous last words." "There's the birthday girl now. See that sparkly tiara she's wearing? That's real diamonds, I guarantee it." "You want us to steal a child's tiara? That's a new low, even for us." "I prefer to think of it as redistributing wealth." "To ourselves." "Exactly." The golden retriever suddenly lifted its head, looking directly at their hiding spot. Its tail began wagging furiously. "Bill, I think we've been spotted." "By who?" "The horse-dog. And it's coming this way." "Just stay calm. Maybe it won't—" The dog bounded over, covering Bill's face in slobbery kisses and knocking him backwards into the hedge. "Bill! Get up!" "I can't! It thinks I'm a chew toy!" "This is exactly why I said we should have robbed the jewelry store instead." "Help me, Molly!" "I'm trying, but your giant shoes are stuck in the fence!" A small voice piped up behind them. "Mommy, why are the clowns hiding in our bushes?" Molly turned slowly to see the birthday girl staring at them with wide, curious eyes. "Surprise?"