"Molly, you're telling me we need to crack a bouncy castle?" Bill asked, tightening his ski mask. "It's not just a bouncy castle, Bill. It's a fortress with air vents and a ball pit moat," Molly said, unrolling crayon-blueprints across the steering wheel. "The target is inside the piñata." "The piñata? I thought we were grabbing Nintendo Switches and Legos." "We are. The birthday boy's parents put everything in the donkey to save on wrapping paper." Bill squinted. "Why's there a crying clown in the margin?" "That's you, Bill. That's your disguise." "I'm absolutely not dressing as a clown." "You have to. The code phrase is 'Who wants balloon animals?' Then we neutralize the magician." "Neutralize? He's six years old, Molly." "He's a competitive threat with a sippy cup. Plus he saw my face at the library during story hour." "What about the parents?" "Cake distraction. I spike the punch with sleeping pills—grape flavor, obviously." "Obviously." "Then we rappel from the treehouse, grab the donkey, and exfiltrate through the sandbox." "Do I at least get a squirting flower?" "Only if you don't cry when they pelt you with sticks." "This is literally the stupidest job we've ever done." "Stupid? Bill, we're talking thirty bucks in Target gift cards and possibly a Lego Death Star." "Fine. But I'm keeping the red nose."