The blueprints were spread across Molly’s kitchen table like a crime scene, which, in a way, they were. Instead of a bank vault or a museum, the detailed schematics depicted a two-story colonial on Maple Lane, complete with a circled location for the ‘gift table’. Molly, her brow furrowed in intense concentration, tapped a greasy finger on the diagram. Bill, however, wasn’t looking at the schematics. His eyes were glazed over, fixed on a child’s crayon drawing of a castle taped to the fridge, a drawing he’d personally pilfered from the target’s mailbox last Tuesday. “The target is the Richardson place. Saturday. Two p.m. The party’s in full swing. Our window is the bouncy castle.” “The Bouncy Blast 5000? I love that thing. I went in one once. Wore my lucky socks. Got static shock.” Molly sighed, a long, weary sound that smelled of stale coffee and broken dreams. She picked up a half-eaten donut and used it to point at Bill, her expression deadly serious. “Focus, Bill. You’re on the bouncy castle. You cause a… structural failure. A slow, dramatic deflation.” “Like a sad, wobbly whale? I can do that. What about the piñata? Those things are weapons. A kid could lose an eye.” “The piñata is a secondary concern. While you’re creating a chaotic, yet safe, diversion, I’ll be executing the present extraction.” She moved her donut-pointer to a diagram of the patio doors, indicating her path in and out. It was a simple, elegant plan, which is why she knew Bill would find a way to complicate it. “Right, the presents. You think there’s a bike? I always wanted a bike. A red one. With a bell. Ding-ding.” Molly dropped the donut. It landed jelly-side down on the ‘Master Bedroom’ section of the floor plan. She stared at Bill, her partner in crime and, occasionally, her primary reason for considering a new, less stressful career, like bomb disposal. “There is no bike, Bill. It’s a five-year-old’s party. It’s all LEGOs and disappointing board games. Now, memorize the floor plan.” She jabbed a finger at a diagram of the living room. Bill just nodded, already hearing the phantom ding-ding of a bell that would never, ever be his.