Molly crouched behind the steering wheel of the unmarked van, the stale aroma of yesterday’s burritos mingling with the tension in the air. Through the rain-splattered windshield, the suburban house loomed like a fortress, its defenses comprised of colorful balloons and a startlingly aggressive bouncy castle. "You see the package?" Molly asked, her voice tight. "I see it," Bill replied, adjusting the magnification on his binoculars. "It’s wrapped in shiny blue paper. Glittery. Very festive." "Don’t get distracted by the aesthetics, Bill. Focus on the structural integrity of the ribbon. Is it a bow or a knot?" "It’s a bow. A fluffy one. Looks like it might be hiding a trap." Bill scribbled notes on a napkin, his hand shaking slightly. A small child in a superhero cape ran past the window, waving a plastic sword. It was a high-risk environment, fraught with the unpredictability of sugar-fueled mania. "Okay, listen to me," Molly said, grabbing Bill’s shoulder. "The clown is the biggest threat. He’s making balloon animals near the perimeter. If he spots us, he’ll squeak his horn and summon the parents." "What if I take the clown out?" "No violence. We are professionals. You distract him with a logic puzzle. Clowns hate logic." "That’s ridiculous." "Have you ever seen a clown do algebra? Exactly. Now, once I breach the gift table, I need you to secure the getaway vehicle." She pointed to the Radio Flyer wagon parked haphazardly on the driveway. It was a rusted red chariot, faded by the sun, but it was their only extraction method. The stakes were incredibly low, yet Bill looked as though he were storming a bank vault. "The wagon has a wobbly wheel, Molly. What if we lose a payload on the turn?" "Then you run faster, Bill. These kids have short legs but they have stamina. If they swarm, it’s over. They will overwhelm you with sheer numbers and sticky fingers." "I read about a guy who tried this in Newark. They found him tangled in streamers. He couldn’t talk for a week." "Forget Newark. This is paydirt. I saw a pony back there. A pony, Bill. That means big money gifts." A sudden burst of laughter erupted from the backyard, a chilling sound that made Bill flinch. He looked at Molly, his eyes wide with fear and greed. The lure of expensive plastic merchandise was a siren song he couldn't resist. "Fine. We go on my mark," Bill whispered, gripping the door handle. "But if a child bites me, I’m suing." "Deal. Check the perimeter one last time. Are there any piñatas?" "Negative. It's clear. Just a table of cupcakes." "Leave the cupcakes. They're a liability. Crumbs everywhere. On three. One, two..."