Molly leaned against the van. "So we're really doing this?" "Twenty grand in gift cards, Moll. Parents go crazy at these rich kid parties." "It's a six-year-old's birthday party, Bill." "Exactly. They won't suspect professional thieves." "Because we're not professionals. We're idiots casing a bounce house." Bill unfolded his blueprint. "You go in as the clown." "Absolutely not." "The magician then." "I'm not doing children's entertainment!" "Fine. You're the pony." "The what?" "Someone ordered a pony. You're the pony." "How am I supposed to be a pony?" "Horse costume. I got one cheap online." "Why do you have a horse costume?" "Don't ask questions. Point is, you trot in, I follow as your handler, we grab the present table during the piñata, and boom. Out in five minutes." "This is the dumbest plan you've ever had." "Remember the yacht?" "Okay, second dumbest." "So you're in?" Molly sighed. "Where's the costume?" "Trunk. But Moll? The head's a little wonky." "Of course it is." "And you might be a unicorn." "I hate you so much."