Molly peered through binoculars at the brightly colored house. “Okay, presents are staged by the fireplace. The main obstacle is the bouncy castle.” “What about Patches the Clown? He looks shifty,” Bill whispered, adjusting his ski mask. “You’re the diversion. Engage the target. Ask for a complex balloon animal.” “A complex what? Last time he made me a worm, Molly. A worm! I have a reputation to maintain.” “Your reputation is that you can carry a lot of loot. Now, the kids are the real threat. They’re sticky, unpredictable, and I’ve seen at least three with glitter. That’s a biohazard.” Bill squinted. “So I dodge the glitter, distract the clown, and what? Make a run for it through the Crying Zone?” “Exactly. I’ll be in and out. Thirty seconds. Don’t get your face painted.” “Right. No face paint. What if he offers me one of those candy cigarettes? I can’t refuse professional courtesy.” “Bill, for the last time, a party clown is not a peer in our field. Just grab the balloon poodle and run.”