The dense rhododendron bushes rustled violently as Bill adjusted the bright red clown nose strapped to his face. "Are we seriously doing this?" he whispered. He wiped a greasy smear of paint from his sweating, wrinkled forehead. "I look absolutely ridiculous." "You look festive," Molly snapped, adjusting the oversized plastic ray gun holstered awkwardly at her hip for the third time. "Now, focus. The target is the loot by the bouncy castle. We hit the piñata first to create a diversion." "A diversion? I’m the diversion," Bill groaned, eyeing the screaming six-year-olds with genuine, unbridled terror. "I have to make balloon animals while you sack the gifts?" "Precisely," Molly checked her watch, her eyes narrowing on the oblivious, chatty parents sipping cocktails. "You create chaos, I secure the merchandise. That is the deal." "I thought we were robbing a bank," Bill grumbled, inching reluctantly toward the wrought iron garden gate nearby. "Not stealing a LEGO set from a toddler." "Lego has resale value, Bill," she insisted, shoving him forward roughly with her shoulder. "Move. The magician is almost done with his act." "I hate you right now," Bill sighed, stepping onto the manicured lawn with a painful, forced grimace. "I want a fifty percent cut and a pony."