Molly smoothed the crayon-drawn map over the dusty dashboard, its lines stained with ketchup. From the passenger seat, Bill watched the suburban house, nervously rotating a half-eaten donut as the faint shrieks of children drifted through their open window. “Alright,” Molly began, her finger tapping a wobbly circle. “Entry is the bouncy castle.” “The bouncy castle? My back, Molly. It isn't what it used to be.” “It's an inflatable, Bill, not a gravel pit. We move during the ‘Happy Birthday’ song.” “And the signal for the grab?” “When the magician pulls the rabbit from his hat. That's our green light for the gift pile.” “What if he pulls out a dove?” Bill mumbled through a mouthful of sugar. “Then we wait for a rabbit! Honestly, just focus.” “Right. The loot.” He brushed crumbs from his shirt. “Think we'll score any LEGOs?” “We are not keeping the LEGOs.” “A man can dream,” Bill sighed. “Just asking.” She grabbed the binoculars from the glove box. “Just be ready to bounce.”