Molly spread the hand-drawn map across the sticky diner table, knocking over a saltshaker in the process. The blueprint depicted a suburban backyard in extraordinary detail, complete with a bounce house labeled DANGER ZONE and a folding table marked PAYLOAD. "Alright, the party kicks off at two," Molly said, tapping the map with a french fry. "We go in through the side gate disguised as balloon artists." Bill squinted at the map and scratched his chin. "I don't know how to make balloon animals." "You make one shape and call everything a snake. Kids are dumb, Bill." He considered this and nodded slowly, the logic apparently satisfying him completely. "What about the parents?" he asked. "Those suburban types are vicious." "That's why I bought a piñata filled with tiny bottles of wine. We set it up near the patio, one mom cracks it open, and the rest swarm like seagulls. We'll have maybe four minutes." "That's brilliant and deeply sad," Bill said. Molly folded the map with surgical precision. Outside, rain began tapping against the window, setting the kind of mood that made mediocre crimes feel cinematic. "We grab every wrapped box and vanish," she whispered. "Happy birthday to us."