Molly lowered the binoculars, a grim set to her jaw. Crumpled on the dashboard between them was a map drawn in crayon on a party invitation. "Okay, Bill. Remind me. Entry point?" Bill nodded confidently, fogging up his side of the van window. "The bouncy castle. Operation: Pounce and Plunder." "Absolutely not," she said, tapping the drawing. "We are not bouncing." "But think of the airtime! The sheer audacity!" "I'm thinking of my vertebrae. We're using the doggy door like we planned." A shower of confetti burst from the front yard. Bill sighed wistfully. "That's undignified." "We're about to steal LEGOs from a ten-year-old named Kevin. Dignity left the building an hour ago. Now, distraction?" "I've prepared a speech on the geopolitical importance of birthday cake." Molly stared at him. "Just release the squirrels, Bill." "Fine," he grumbled, clutching a small wicker basket. "But they were really going to learn something." His gaze drifted back to the party. "That clown looks sad." "He's a clown," Molly sighed, rubbing her temples. "It's the gig."