"You're suggesting we tunnel through the ball pit?" Bill adjusted his ski mask. "Obviously. The presents are guarded by a clown with a squeaky nose. We enter during the piñata chaos." "Why not just pose as parents?" "You're forty and allergic to glitter. The 'Cool Uncle' cover is thinner than the ice cream cake." Bill frowned at the map. "But tunneling?" "Standard procedure. Dig under the table, grab the Xbox, exit through the craft station." "What about the six-year-olds?" "Juice boxes laced with extra sugar. Hyperactivity is our distraction." "If the clown catches us?" "Acoustic warfare." Molly held up a whoopee cushion. "One squeeze, he trips over his shoes." "Brilliant." "Now suit up. Party starts at two, and I want that Lego set." "Should we bring gifts to blend in?" "We're stealing them, Bill, not exchanging them." "Right. Old habits." "Focus. This is the big leagues. Disney princesses and limited edition cards." "Let's break some hearts." "Gently. It's a children's party, not a bank." "Still counts as a heist." "It counts as larceny with cake." "Pink frosting on the cake?" Bill scratched his chin. "Red velvet. We're monsters, not animals." "Bring the big bag." "Obviously. And Bill? Try not to cry when they sing Happy Birthday. It's unprofessional."