"Bill, stop tapping your foot. It’s creating vibrations that could be mistaken for a bomb." "I’m tapping my foot because you decided we should wear high heels." "I wear heels, Bill. I sell insurance. We are professionals. We are shadows in the night." "We are two adults in the back of a rusty minivan eating stale pretzels." "It’s the ambiance. It sells the discipline." Molly adjusted the binoculars, which were actually cheap binoculars from 1998. "The red balloon is up. That means the perimeter is clear." "The red balloon is attached to the mailbox. The mailbox belongs to the grandma with the security system." "Exactly. Grandma doesn’t want the letters. She wants the flyers. We want the opening. The moment the opening ritual begins. That is our golden window." "The golden window is forty minutes of screaming children." "It is forty minutes of pure, unadulterated aural bliss. Which means sixty seconds of absolute theft." She slid the pizza box schematic across the dashboard again. "Look. The tablecloth. It’s red. The red tablecloth will mask the sound of plastic ripping." "So we’re using theft as soundproofing?" "It’s efficient, Bill. More efficient than foam tape. And don’t worry about the parents. They’re distracted. The dad is on the floor playing floor-is-lava. It’s a distraction technique I like to call 'Dad Panic'." "I should arrest you." "You’re wearing a funny hat, Bill. Put the hat on." "I’m wearing a stocking cap." "It’s tactical headwear. Now, grab the duffel bags. The ones filled with air. We need to look empty so we can look full." "We’re going to look like we shoplifted a sleeping bag." "We’re going to look like phantoms, Bill. Get moving." "You picked the right night, Molly. The cake is in the shape of the Nintendo Switch 2." "I didn't pick the night for the cake, Bill. I picked the night for the specific, limited edition edition of the Nintendo Switch 2 with the floral packaging." "There isn't one." "There isn't one because it’s a hallucination. But if it’s on the invite, it’s a hallucination we need to feed." Bill groaned, opening the side door of the van. "Fine. Let’s go rob a pile of wrapping paper and crayons."