Molly lowered the plastic binoculars, her face a mask of grim determination as she stared at the suburban bungalow. "Three o'clock," she whispered. "The target is moving the asset." Bill leaned over the steering wheel, squinting through the windshield of their rusted sedan. "The asset being the sheet cake?" "The asset being the pile of boxes wrapped in Paw Patrol paper, Bill. Focus. We have eyes on the prize." "There's a lot of security," Bill muttered, unwrapping a cheese string with trembling fingers. "I see at least four moms. Maybe an alert uncle. That guy looks tactical." "He’s holding a juice box. He's hydrated. Dangerous." Molly tapped the blueprint spread across the dashboard. It was a drawing of the backyard done in crayon. "Here’s the plan. We go in through the side gate during the Happy Birthday song." "Why then?" "Acoustic cover. Thirty toddlers screaming slightly off-key gives us a twelve-second window to breach the patio." Bill pointed a shaking finger at the yard. "What about the operative in the rainbow wig?" "Bubbles the Clown?" Molly scoffed. "He’s a hired gun. Doesn't satisfy the loyalty check. You throw him a twenty, he looks the other way. I’m more worried about the golden retriever." "Dogs smell fear, Molly. And I smell like fear and cheap dairy." "You’re the distraction," Molly said, handing him a oversized red nose. "I thought we were doing the caterer ruse? I bought a hairnet." "Change of plans. Operational fluidity. You’re going in as Bubbles’ uncredited apprentice. While you juggle, I sweep the gift table into the sack." "I can't juggle." "Then throw things in the air and look panic-stricken. It’s physical comedy. Kids love failure." Bill looked at the red nose in his palm with deep suspicion. "This feels morally ambiguous, Mol. Taking from a kid on his birthday? It’s bad karma." "It’s a life lesson, Bill. We're teaching him that material possessions are fleeting. Nothing is permanent. Not even a brand new console." "There's a console?" "Intel suggests a high probability. Plus, a limited edition Lego set. The castle." Bill whistled low. "The one with the working drawbridge?" "The very same." "Okay, I'm in. But what about the piñata? Last time, I nearly dislocated my shoulder hitting that donkey. It was reinforced." "I pre-weakened the structural integrity of the cardboard unicorn at 0600 hours. One hit, and it rains stale candy. That’s our extraction signal. When the sugar hits the grass, the mob descends, and we move the loot to the van." "And if the Dad intervenes?" "You escalate." Bill widened his eyes in horror. "Violence?" "Balloon animals, Bill. You make him a sword. He’ll be too delighted to pursue." Molly checked her watch, her eyes narrowing. "Candles are being lit. Smoke is rising. This is it. Hoods up." Bill pulled a black ski mask over his face, hesitated, realized his mistake, and swapped it for the clown nose. "Let's steal some childhood wonder."