Molly pressed binoculars against the minivan window. "Seventeen kids. Three clowns. One bouncy castle." "Three clowns? That's excessive," Bill muttered. "Rich people, Bill. They're excessive by nature." "So we're really doing this? Stealing from a seven-year-old?" "We're stealing from Congressman Patterson. His kid just happens to be turning seven." "The invitation said no gifts over fifty dollars." "And you believed that? Bill, there's a pony in the backyard." "I thought that was a large dog." "It's wearing a saddle." "Fancy dog." "Focus. I go in through the catering entrance. You distract the clowns." "Why do I get clown duty?" "Because you're wearing that shirt, and you'll blend right in." "This is vintage." "It's orange with purple stripes." "Exactly. Vintage." "Whatever. The presents are in the pool house. I grab, you drive." "What about the parents?" "Open bar since noon. They won't notice anything." "And the kids?" "Sugar crash hits at three. We move at three fifteen." "You've thought of everything." "That's why I'm the brains." "And I'm the clown whisperer, apparently." "Embrace it, Bill. Embrace it."