Molly pressed her binoculars against the chain-link fence, surveying the backyard like a general studying enemy territory. Balloon animals swayed in the breeze. A inflatable bounce house wobbled menacingly in the corner. Somewhere inside, a clown was making children laugh, completely unaware of the tactical nightmare he presented. Bill crouched beside her, his black turtleneck already collecting grass stains. He had insisted on the turtleneck. Professional thieves wore turtlenecks, he claimed, despite Molly pointing out it was ninety degrees and they were robbing eight-year-olds. The present table sat unguarded near the back door, a mountain of wrapped boxes glittering with promise. Transformers. Legos. Gift cards from relatives who had given up trying. "The clown is a problem," Molly whispered. "I can take him." "Bill, you cried at the circus last month." He shifted uncomfortably. "Those were different clowns. Aggressive clowns." A child shrieked with laughter inside, and both thieves flinched. Molly pulled out her hand-drawn map, which featured surprisingly detailed illustrations of the snack table. She had done reconnaissance disguised as a pizza delivery driver. The pizza place had been confused but ultimately cooperative. This would be their greatest heist yet. Or their most embarrassing arrest.