The dusty attic reeked of mothballs and desperation. Molly polished a crowbar with unnecessary vigor. "So, the target is... a fiver? A five-year-old's birthday bash?" Bill squinted at a crudely drawn map. "Exactly. Little Timmy. Apparently, he's getting some primo Transformers. Think Optimus Prime. And maybe a drone." "A drone? At five? That's irresponsible parenting," Molly scoffed. "Still, the bounty is significant. You got the distraction squared away?" "Absolutely. Bouncy castle. I rigged a minor deflation. Just enough to cause a kerfuffle. Chaos, Molly. Beautiful, present-snatching chaos." "And the getaway? We're not shoving loot into a giant teddy bear again, are we?" "Negative. Bag for each of us. And a decoy minivan. Red, you know the drill. Blends right in with all the soccer moms." "Excellent. So, we infiltrate under the guise of... overly enthusiastic entertainers?" "Precisely. I'll be 'Jazzy Bill,' the balloon guy. You're... 'Magical Molly.' We steal the goods, leave a trail of glitter. Classic." Molly grinned. "Jazzy Bill and Magical Molly. This is going to be epic."