Molly tapped the architectural blueprints spread across the cracked dashboard of the unmarked van. She adjusted her wool balaclava, pulling it tight against her neck, despite the sweltering heat radiating through the windshield. Outside, the suburbs were quiet, save for the distant scream of a delighted child. "Listen closely. The asset is located on the patio, but the security detail is ruthless. I’m seeing at least six stay-at-home dads on high alert." Bill sighed, reaching for a tropical punch juice box in the cupholder. "Mol, it’s a six-year-old’s birthday party. Are we really doing this? I feel like the FBI is going to raid us for stealing a Barbie Dreamhouse." "It’s not just a Barbie Dreamhouse, Bill. It’s the deluxe edition. Plus, I saw three unattended bicycles near the fence. We’re talking high resale value on the black market," Molly hissed, aiming a red laser pointer at the suburban house across the street. "Now, focus. We need a distraction. I was thinking the inflatable castle." "The bouncy house?" "Yes. I’ll create a structural failure on the left pillar. Chaos ensues. Parents panic. While they’re consoling the crying kids, you swoop in dressed as the ice cream man." Bill rubbed his face, smearing greasepaint on his cheek. "I don't have an ice cream man costume. I have a pirate costume from last Halloween." "Fine. Pirate ice cream man. You grab the presents, I’ll disable the alarm system." "The alarm system is a dog named Buster," Bill pointed out, watching a Golden Retriever chase a butterfly on the lawn. "He’s currently asleep on a sprinkler." "Dogs can wake up, Bill! Never underestimate the opposition. We have a five-minute window before they light the candles. Once those sparklers come out, visibility drops, and the fire hazard increases tenfold." "You know," Bill said, opening the juice box with a loud plastic pop, "my niece is at that party. If we steal her presents, my sister will literally kill me. She already thinks I’m a bad influence." "A thief worries about his reputation, Bill, not his family connections. Think of the glory. We hit the Jones residence last year and got away with, like, eight scooters. This is the big leagues." "We returned those scooters because they wouldn't fit in the van." "Details!" Molly snapped, shoving a grappling hook into his hands. "We move at 1400 hours. I’ll take the roof, you take the piñata. Remember, don't engage the birthday girl. She’s got a sugar rush and she’s not afraid to use it." Bill looked at the grappling hook, then at the happy children playing tag on the manicured lawn. He took a deep breath, adjusting his plastic eye patch. "If I get tackled by a kindergartner, I’m blaming you." "Just shut up and drive."