Molly adjusted the focus on her high-powered binoculars, scanning the chaotic sea of primary colors dominating the backyard. "Target is stationary, but why is there a llama wearing a tiny party hat?" she whispered. Bill frantically tapped on his tactical tablet, pulling up the thermal imaging of the suburban compound. "It's a petting zoo, Molly. A tactical nightmare," Bill hissed. "Do you realize the chaos potential? Those goats are loose cannons." He pointed toward the patio where a magician was pulling endless handkerchiefs from his sleeve. "Forget the goats. The perimeter is guarded by a clown," Molly noted. "Clowns are unpredictable. Do we have the glitter bomb ready?" Bill reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a metallic sphere, handing it to his partner with a solemn nod. "I packed the heavy payload. High shimmer radius," Bill confirmed. "We move during the cake cutting. Maximum sugar distraction." Molly smeared black greasepaint under her eyes, staring at the mountain of wrapped boxes near the picnic table. "Remember, Bill," she warned. "Grab the flat boxes first. They fit better in the getaway van." He grinned, checking the itinerary one last time. "I call dibs on the piñata candy," Bill said. "It's technically a victimless crime if we leave the fruit." Molly checked her watch. "It's go time. And don't inhale the helium again."