The backroom of *Big Tony’s Pawn & Emporium of Questionable Merchandise* smelled like stale coffee and regret, which was fitting because that’s exactly what Molly was feeling as she stared at the blueprints of *Wiggles & Giggles Daycare’s Grand Pirate Adventure Extravaganza*. “Okay,” she said, tapping a finger against the paper. “We’ve got a problem.” Bill didn’t look up from the bag of gummy worms he was methodically dismantling. “We always got a problem. Last week, our problem was that you set off the fire alarm at the jewelry store by sneezing. The week before that, our problem was that you thought ‘disguise’ meant ‘wearing a fake mustache upside down.’ So unless this problem involves you accidentally gluing your hand to a piñata, I’m not impressed.” Molly ignored him. “The presents are in a locked storage closet, but the key is kept in the office, which is *right next to* the party room. And the party room is *full of children*.” Bill finally glanced up, a gummy worm dangling from his lip. “So? Kids are easy. You just distract ‘em with a balloon animal or something.” “Bill, we are not making balloon animals.” “Why not? I can make a balloon animal. I made one for my niece’s birthday. It looked like a sad, deflated octopus, but she cried because she thought it was *supposed* to look like that.” Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “We are not breaking into a children’s party to steal presents *and* traumatize them for life. Also, the office door has a *childproof lock*. You know, the kind with the little red button you have to press down? The kind that’s *designed* to thwart people like us?” Bill waved a hand. “Pfft. Childproof locks are a myth. Kids get into everything. Ever seen a toddler? They’re basically tiny, chaotic burglars. If a two-year-old can open a pill bottle, I can open a *door*.” “You’re comparing yourself to a toddler. That’s not inspiring confidence.” “Hey, toddlers are *ruthless*. They’ll steal your fries right off your plate. They’ve got *no mercy*. We could learn a thing or two.” Molly groaned. “Focus. The presents are wrapped in *pirate-themed paper*. We’re gonna look like the world’s worst Santa Clauses if we’re caught lugging armfuls of treasure chests out of there.” Bill grinned. “So we *become* pirates.” “What?” “Think about it. We show up in eye patches, bandanas, the whole bit. We tell the kids we’re *real* pirates, here to ‘inspect the treasure’ before the party starts. They’ll *love* it. Kids eat that stuff up.” Molly stared at him. “You want to *perform* for them?” “No, I want to *con* them. There’s a difference. Performing implies skill. Conning implies *not getting caught*.” “And what happens when some kid asks why we’re putting the presents in *our* pirate ship instead of the goodie bag table?” Bill shrugged. “We tell ‘em the presents are *cursed*. That they have to be taken to the *Pirate King’s Lair* for safekeeping. Kids *live* for cursed treasure.” Molly considered this. “…That’s actually not the worst idea you’ve ever had.” “High praise.” “But we still need the key.” Bill reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plastic keychain shaped like a dinosaur. “Already got one.” Molly blinked. “Where did you get a *dinosaur keychain*?” “Stole it from a kid at the grocery store yesterday. Figured it’d come in handy.” “You *stole* a keychain from a *child*?” “Relax, I left him a quarter. He was *thrilled*. Probably thinks he got the better end of the deal.” Molly sighed. “We’re going to hell.” “Nah, hell’s too hot. We’re gonna end up in *mildly warm purgatory*, where the Wi-Fi is slow and the snacks are just *fine*.” Molly grabbed the blueprints and stood up. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But if we get caught, I’m telling them *you* were the one who wanted to be pirates.” Bill grinned, tossing the last gummy worm into his mouth. “Deal. But if we *don’t* get caught, I get first pick of the loot.” “Fine. But if there’s a *My Little Pony* in there, it’s mine.” “You don’t even *like* My Little Pony.” “Exactly. That’s how you know it’s *valuable*.” Bill shook his head. “You’re a terrible person.” Molly smirked. “And yet, here you are, *planning a heist with me*.” “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go steal some *cursed* pirate treasure.”