Molly adjusted the fake nose, glaring at Bill across the dashboard of the idling van. The rain drummed a steady, rhythmic beat against the metal roof, masking the sound of their target’s laughter drifting from the garden hedge. "Focus, Bill. We aren’t here for the cake," Molly snapped, tapping a manicured fingernail on the steering wheel. "But it looks like a carrot cake," Bill whined, lowering the binoculars slightly. "I really love carrot cake." "Put the binoculars down. We are here for the payload. The mother lode. The pile of wrapped cardboard in the corner." "It’s a five-year-old’s birthday party, Molls. It feels morally gray." "It’s professionally black and white. That’s a PS5 in that wrapping paper. I saw the shape." "It looked like a sweater." "Sweaters don’t have hard corners, you idiot. Now, check the schematics." Bill unfolded a crinkled napkin that featured a crayon drawing of a suburban house. "The security is tight. There’s a dog." "A poodle? You’re scared of a poodle?" "It’s a standard poodle. It looks like a horse. A horse that bites." "Neutralize the dog with a treat. We move in at zero-dark-hundred." "That’s nap time." "Exactly. The guards will be exhausted. Vulnerable. Drinking prosecco." "And the disguises? Are we sticking with the plan?" "Clowns," Molly stated firmly. Bill paled, clutching his chest. "I can’t do clown shoes. I have weak ankles." "Fine. Magicians. We go in as magicians." "I don't know any tricks." "Just pull stuff out of your hat. Say 'abracadabra' and keep moving toward the prize table." "If I get cornered by a toddler?" "Distract them with a balloon animal. If that fails, offer them a card trick." "Kids don't know cards, Molly." "Then run. Run fast. Grab the presents, throw them in the van, and we ghost. What about the bouncy castle?" "What about it?" "It’s a blind spot. If we cut the power to the generator, the castle deflates." "We can’t deflate the castle, Bill. That’s a war crime. The kids will be trapped in the vinyl folds." "You have a point. Okay, we go around the perimeter. Through the rose garden?" "Too thorny. We go through the designated smoking area. The parents will be too busy vaping to notice two magicians hauling armloads of loot." "Wait, the getaway," Bill said, eyes widening in panic. "I just remembered." "What about it?" "We parked in a loading zone. There’s a meter maid circling." "Pay her." "With what? We’re broke. That’s why we’re stealing toys." "Then... talk to her. Seduce her." "She's eighty, Bill." "Age is just a number! Fix the car, I’m checking the lock picks. We hit that presents table in five." "Five minutes. Roger that. I hope they have that LEGO Death Star." "They better. I’m not leaving with just board games. Operation is heavy and requires batteries." "Ready?" "Ready." "Let’s go ruin some childhood memories."