"So, we go in during 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey'," Molly whispered, checking the perimeter of the suburban backyard. "Vision is compromised, guards are blindfolded." "What if the donkey sees us?" Bill asked, tightening his velcro strap. "It’s paper, Bill. Focus. We grab the big box from the table. The one shaped like a video game console." "What if it’s socks? Kids get socks sometimes. It’s a real letdown." "Then we steal the socks! We steal everything that isn't nailed down. But watch out for the mother; she has a whistle." "Loud?" "Deafening. Last guy who tried this is still hearing a ringing in his left ear. And for the love of cash, avoid the clown." "Twinkles?" "Yes, Twinkles. He’s a wildcard. I saw him make a balloon poodle that looked suspiciously like a shiv." "I can take him. I’ve been practicing my squirt gun draw." "No liquids! You’ll ruin the cardboard. We grab, we run, we do not stop for cake." "Not even a corner piece? The ones with the frosting flowers?" "No! We are professionals. We do not steal baked goods." "Fine. But if there’s a piñata, I’m taking a swing. It’s about the journey, Molly." "It’s about the resale value, you maniac. Now, put on your party hat and look inconspicuous."