“Okay, final checks,” Molly whispered, peering through binoculars from across the street. “Security is a seven-year-old in a cardboard knight’s helmet. He looks… diligent.” “I’m more worried about the chaperone,” Bill muttered, adjusting a fake, bulbous nose. “My ex. She knows my walk. That’s why I’m doing the penguin shuffle.” “The penguin shuffle? You look like you’ve lost a contact lens in a blizzard.” “It’s either this or I wear a full pirate costume, which was Plan B.” “No, the pirate costume was Plan C. Plan B was the giant carrot.” “The carrot was a logistical nightmare! Right, I’m in position. Distract the knight.” “On it. Hey, kid! Free ice cream truck out back!” Molly yelled, then ducked. “He’s gone. Go, go, go!” “Almost there… I’m at the prize table… Molly, my soul is dying a little. It’s all Barbie dreamhouses and plastic dinosaurs.” “Don’t get sentimental! Grab the haul! We can fence a ‘Sparkle Princess’ playset for a fortune to a desperate parent! Move!”