"So we're really doing this?" Bill whispered. "The birthday loot is legendary. Thirty kids means thirty gift bags," Molly said. "We hit Saturday at noon." "How do we even get in? We don't have kids." "We go as party entertainers. You're a clown. I'm a face painter." Bill stared at her. "I'm six feet tall and built like a linebacker." "Exactly. The biggest clown ever. Nobody questions it. Kids love the weird ones," Molly said, adjusting her plan on the napkin. "Fine. Then what?" "Phase two: the great present heist. While you're making balloon animals, I'm photographing the gift pile location." "What about security?" "It's a six-year-old's party in a suburban home. The only security is Carol, the frazzled mom." "One mom versus two professional thieves. Those are decent odds," Bill grinned. "Better odds once the kids mob you for tricks. Complete chaos. I slip out with the goods." "Where do we fence toy trains and action figures?" "eBay, mostly. Also that pawn shop on Fifth." Bill sighed. "My mother would be so disappointed." "Your mother thinks you work in insurance, Bill." "Right. She'd still be disappointed."