Molly peered through the binoculars at the bouncy castle in the backyard. "Seventeen kids, two clowns, and one very distracted mother." "And one pinata shaped like a unicorn," Bill added, adjusting his black ski mask in the van's rearview mirror. "That's definitely the cash stash." "Bill, for the last time, they don't put money in children's pinatas." "Then explain Vegas, 2019." "That was a bachelor party." "Same energy." Bill pulled out a crumpled napkin covered in crayon. "Okay, so I've mapped out the entire operation. We go in through the—" "Is this drawn in purple crayon?" "I was at Denny's. It's all they had." Molly snatched the napkin. "This is just a stick figure with a sad face." "That's you after we get caught." "We're not getting caught. We're professionals." "Molly, last week you tried to pickpocket a mannequin." "I was practicing." "For twenty minutes." "It was a very realistic mannequin." Molly grabbed her duffel bag. "Look, the plan is simple. You distract the kids with balloon animals while I load up the presents." "I don't know how to make balloon animals." "Then what have you been doing at clown college?" "That was an online degree, Molly. From the University of Phoenix." "They have a clown program?" "No, accounting. But I minored in juggling." "Of course you did." Molly checked her watch. "Birthday girl opens presents in thirty minutes. That's our window." "What if someone recognizes us?" "Bill, we're wearing masks." "Mine has a pom-pom on top." "That's because you bought it at a craft store instead of—wait, is that glitter?" "The lady said it was festive." "We're supposed to be inconspicuous!" "Nothing's more inconspicuous at a kid's party than sparkles. We'll blend right in." "Into what? A disco ball?" Molly took a deep breath. "Just stick to the plan. And remember, no sampling the cake." "That was one time." "Three times. The Petersons, the Changs, and that bar mitzvah." "Bar mitzvahs don't count. That's technically a religious experience." "You ate half the dessert table." "I was moved by the spirit." "Of diabetes maybe." Molly opened the van door. "Now remember, if things go south—" "Rendezvous at the Chuck E. Cheese on Fifth Street." "Bill, no. The laundromat." "Right, but hear me out. Chuck E. Cheese has ski ball." "We're not going to—" A blood-curdling scream erupted from the party. Both thieves froze. "Was that the signal?" Bill whispered. "We didn't have a signal." "Then why is that clown running?" They watched as a clown sprinted across the yard, chased by seventeen sugar-fueled children wielding pool noodles. "Huh," Molly said. "That's our competition." "Should we help him?" "Bill, we're thieves, not monsters." She paused. "Plus, that's excellent cover. Let's go." They slipped out of the van and headed toward the chaos, where the second clown was trying to defend the present table with balloon swords.