"Check the perimeter again," Bill whispered, adjusting his overly tight clown wig. "It is a bouncy castle, Bill, not Fort Knox," Molly snapped. "Those five-year-olds are ruthless and highly caffeinated," he argued. "We move when they start the cake," Molly said. "Is the getaway vehicle primed?" he asked. "The tricycle is ready," she sighed. "And the smoke bombs?" Bill gripped his tactical goody-bags. "They are glitter poppers, you idiot," she muttered. "Visual on the target?" Bill pointed at a pile of colorful boxes. "Target confirmed. Mostly LEGO and disappointment," Molly observed. "We hit the gift table, then we vanish," Bill declared. "Unless there is an ice cream cake," she added. "Focus, Molly! This is the big one!" he hissed. "The big one? It is a bouncy house," she reminded him. "A bouncy house of secrets," Bill croaked. "Just grab the Star Wars box," Molly ordered. "What if the birthday boy sees us?" he worried. "Tell him you are the entertainment," she suggested. "Do I look like entertainment?" Bill asked. "You look like a nightmare," Molly said. "Perfect," Bill grinned. "Let’s go." "Wait for the signal," Molly hissed. "The kazoo?" Bill asked. "The kazoo," she confirmed.