Molly adjusted the focus on the binoculars, squinting at the brightly colored bouncy castle vibrating in the suburban backyard. "You see the security detail? The one in the floral sundress? That’s the mother. Do not engage the mother unless absolutely necessary." "She looks intense," Bill whispered, checking the strap on his duffel bag. "She’s got that 'I haven't slept in forty-eight hours' craziness in her eyes. That’s dangerous, Molly. That’s unpredictable." "That is why we stick to the plan. We wait for the entertainment distraction. You see that guy dressed as a giant SpongeBob? That’s our signal." "I still think I should have worn the mascot costume," Bill grumbled, adjusting his tactical vest over a t-shirt that said 'Game Over'. "I could blend in. I could pretend to be a very sweaty, confused uncle." "You have the face of a career criminal, Bill. A cartoon sponge is significantly less suspicious than you. The second the piñata breaks, you swoop in. Grab the stack of blue envelopes—that’s the cash haul—and the biggest box you can find. I’m betting on a gaming console." "What if it’s clothes? I hate stealing clothes. It feels weird. Plus, nobody wants a stolen sweater from Target." "If it’s clothes, leave it. We are here for the electronics and the high-end Lego sets. I saw a box wrapped in shiny gold paper go in earlier. It was heavy. Very heavy." "Could be a book," Bill suggested helpfully. "It wasn't shaped like a book, Bill. It was shaped like a hoverboard. Keep your eyes on the prize. And for god’s sake, if any children ask what you’re doing, use the cover story." "Right. I’m the health inspector." "Health inspectors don't carry duffel bags filled with bolt cutters, you idiot! You’re the entertainment backup. You’re supposed to be doing face painting." "I don't know how to paint faces. I only know how to draw spiders." "Then paint spiders. Kids like spiders. Just keep them busy while I clear the present table. And watch the dog. I saw a golden retriever near the refreshments. If he barks, the operation is blown." "I’ve got the bacon treats," Bill patted his pocket reassuringly. "One bark and he gets a snack. We’re golden." "Okay. SpongeBob is starting his dance routine. It’s showtime. Remember: fast, quiet, and don't let the balloon artist see your face. That guy has a folder on everyone." "I still think we should just steal the cake. That thing looked expensive." "Focus on the presents, Bill. Move!"