Bill adjusted the itchy felt antenna of his headband, glaring across the manicured lawn at the festive chaos of streamers and balloons. Beside him, Molly crouched behind a parked minivan, intensely polishing the lens of an oversized plastic magnifying glass. "I feel absolutely ridiculous," Bill hissed, scratching aggressively at his yellow and black stripes. "Real professionals wear ski masks, not vibrating bumblebee costumes from the discount bin." "Disguises are key to successful infiltration," she whispered, snapping the handle of her glass shut. "We look like negligent party performers. That makes us invisible to the wealthy suburban parents inside." A sudden, high-pitched cheer erupted from the driveway as a pony arrived. Bill watched the children swarm the animal with terrifying speed, leaving the massive pile of gifts by the bouncy castle completely unguarded. "That’s the signal," Molly said, shoving him hard toward the sidewalk. "Grab the wrapping paper. I’ll secure the unopened LEGO sets." "So, we’re just robbing babies now?" Bill asked, resigned to his criminal fate. "We’re redistributing assets from a distracted market," she corrected, narrowing her eyes. "Now move out before the clown starts his act." Bill sighed, realizing there was no turning back from a life of juvenile delinquency, and stepped into the open.