"Bill, are you seriously wearing a ski mask to a kids' party?" "What? It's inconspicuous." "It's June! And we're supposed to be clowns!" "Fine. But I'm keeping the tactical vest." "Absolutely not. Here, put on this rainbow wig." "Molly, I've robbed seventeen banks. I have standards." "And yet here you are, about to steal from six-year-olds." "Those presents could be worth thousands! Have you seen what parents spend these days? Gaming consoles, tablets, those weird egg things—" "Hatchimals." "Gesundheit. Look, little Timmy Wellington's turning seven. His dad owns three yacht dealerships. That pile of presents is our retirement fund." "How do we even get in?" "I told them we're the entertainment. You juggle, I make balloon animals." "I don't juggle!" "You do now. YouTube exists, Bill. Figure it out." "This is insane. What's our exit strategy?" "We load the presents into the piñata, claim it's part of the act, and wheel it out." "That's... actually brilliant." "I know. Now put on your nose." "I hate my life." "No, you hate your empty bank account. There's a difference. Let's go steal from some toddlers." They climbed into their rusty van, rainbow wigs askew.