Molly crouched behind a plastic hedge, binoculars glued to her eyes. “You realize we’re about to rob a bunch of seven-year-olds, right?” Bill adjusted his ski mask. “Technically, we’re relieving them of excess consumerism. It’s educational.” “This is a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party, Bill. There’s a piñata shaped like a unicorn riding a skateboard.” “Which means high-value loot. Kids don’t get cash—only gift cards, toys, and emotional damage. We take the first two.” “And the clown?” “He’s a non-factor. I’ve studied his movements. He hands out tickets then eats stale pizza. No threat.” “What if the kids scream?” “They’re experts at screaming. We’ll blend in.” “You brought the duffel?” “Modified for maximum toy compression. Also lined with bubble wrap.” “Why?” “In case we grab something fragile. Like a Build-A-Bear.” “You’re taking this too seriously.” “It’s *artisanal larceny*, Molly.” “Still feels weird stealing from kids.” “Then think of it this way—we’re testing their resilience. Childhood’s all about delayed gratification.” “And lost presents?” “Exactly. We’re doing child psychology a favor.” “You really believe that?” “No. I just want the Nintendo Switch I saw on the gift table.” “…Worth going to juvenile detention for?” “Adult detention, technically. But yes. It plays *Breath of the Wild*.”