"The clown nose is non-negotiable," Molly said, adjusting her infrared goggles in the van parked outside the rainbow-bricked Chuck E. Cheese. She tapped the crayon-drawn blueprint spread across the grease-stained steering wheel. Bill sighed, stuffing handfuls of glitter into his many cargo pockets. "We agreed I'd be the distracted uncle, not Bozo the felon." "The security cameras love costumes. Plus, the piñata camouflage needs someone vertically challenged." She pointed to a splotch of purple crayon. "Through the slide, past the animatronic band, grab the Frozen II merchandise." "What about the six-year-olds?" "Distraction protocol." Molly hoisted an industrial-sized bubble machine onto her lap. "Five hundred bubbles per minute. Total sensory chaos." Bill checked his watch nervously. "Cake cutting is at three sharp. We go in during the 'Happy Birthday' song." "Exactly. When they hit the third 'dear Emma,' we strike." Molly strapped the Nerf gun to her thigh. "The Legos go in the red sack, Barbies in blue. No mixing." "These kids have iPads, Molly. We're risking twenty years for coloring books?" "These are limited edition Hatchimals." She grinned widely, clipping a party favor to her utility belt. "Now stuff your pockets with goodie bags. We're professionals." "Professionals wearing light-up shoes," Bill muttered, lacing his flashing sneakers.