Molly adjusted her oversized fake glasses, surveying the chaotic backyard filled with screaming, sugar-loaded toddlers. "We go in during the magic show. That’s the window." Bill tugged uncomfortably at his striped leotard, frowning deeply. "I can't believe I'm the rabbit. It’s humiliating." "It’s tactical," she snapped, checking the lock picks hidden inside her bouquet of balloons. "The magician is the only distraction strong enough to mask the sound of ripping wrapping paper." "I’m worried about the sticky fingers," Bill complained, eyeing a child dropping cake on the grass. "They’ll leave fingerprints everywhere." "Focus on the payout," Molly whispered, pointing toward a massive pile of gifts near the garden fence. "That pile contains gaming consoles, not dolls. It’s a goldmine." "Fine," Bill sighed, crawling resignedly into the oversized prop cage. "But if anyone tries to feed me a carrot, I’m quitting." Molly smirked, watching him vanish. "Just keep quiet and wait for my whistle. We’ll be rich before they sing 'Happy Birthday'." "I miss the old days," Bill’s voice echoed from inside the box. "Safes didn't smell like spilled juice."