Molly adjusted the rearview mirror for the tenth time, scanning the street for cops, nosy neighbors, or anyone who might recognize them from the post office bulletin board. "All right, listen up. This is a precision strike. We go in, we secure the package, and we get out before anyone realizes the inventory has shifted." Bill shifted in the passenger seat, the crinkling of his disguise filling the small van. "I still don't like the intel, Mol. You said the target was a soft mark, but I saw a bouncy castle in the backyard. Those things are accidents waiting to happen. Liability nightmares." "It's a six-year-old's birthday party, Bill, not a mob summit. The only liability is if you get stuck in the plastic slide again." Molly checked her watch. "We have a twenty-minute window while the magician performs. That gives us exactly enough time to hit the gift table and vacate." "It’s just... there are a lot of variables. Glitter, for one. Have you ever tried to run from the law while covered in glitter? It’s evidence that keeps on giving." Bill sighed, pulling at the collar of his oversized costume. "And why do I have to be the pony? This suit smells like mothballs and regret." "Because I'm the lookout, and lookouts don't dress as livestock. Now, the table is located near the sliding glass door. You cause a distraction near the punch bowl, I grab the haul. Simple." "I don't know how to cause a distraction as a pony. Do I kick? Do I neigh menacingly?" "You trip. You're clumsy, Bill. Use your natural talents. Just stumble into the snack table, create a scene, and keep the parents focused on the catastrophic loss of dip." Molly reached under her seat and pulled out a canvas sack. "We're looking for rectangular boxes, heavy ones. That’s usually electronics or high-end collectibles. Leave the clothes. We're not barbarians; we're professionals." "What about the kid? What if the birthday boy spots us? Kids have great memories, Molly. They can identify a suspect line-up better than most adults." "He'll be mesmerized by the magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. And if he isn't, just give him a balloon animal. You learned how to make a giraffe, right?" "I learned how to make a snake. It’s just a long balloon." "Perfect. The kid gets a snake, we get the Lego Death Star. Everyone wins." Molly popped the door lock. "Goggles down. Safety off. Remember, low profile. We are ghosts. We are shadows." "I'm a pony," Bill grumbled, stepping out of the van with a heavy thud. "A clumsy, sweaty ghost pony." "Less complaining, more walking. Check your six." "I'm checking my six, but my peripheral vision is blocked by the plush mane. If a toddler tackles my flank, I am not responsible for the consequences." "Just get to the gate. On my signal, you stumble, I grab. We meet back here in four minutes. If anyone asks, we're with the catering company." "We're wearing a ski mask and a pony suit, Molly." "Then tell them we're experimental performance artists. I don't care! Just get in there and steal Christmas." "It's July." "Steal the birthday! Move!"