"Okay, look at the diagram," Molly whispered. "The bouncy castle is the perimeter. We breach at cake time." "It’s a tactical nightmare," Bill grunted. "An unstable surface for a guy with my center of gravity." "Stop whining. You create the diversion. I’ll hit the gift table." "What kind of diversion? I don’t know magic." "Just trip over a power cord or start crying about a dropped ice cream cone. Blend in." "I’m forty-five, Molly. I can’t blend in with six-year-olds." "Then act like a creepy uncle. Just keep the parents busy. I need exactly forty seconds to bag the loot." "What about the piñata?" "What about it?" "It’s a wild card. If that thing gets busted open, we have a riot on our hands. A sugar-fueled riot." "Grab the Nerf guns first. We need the leverage. Now, get your mask on." "It’s a superhero party. Should I wear the mask or the cape?" "Wear both. We need to look committed. And Bill?" "Yeah?" "If you see the clown, run. He looks shifty." "Got it. Clown is hostile. Moving out."