Molly crouched behind the large, inflatable dragon, her eyes darting to the rows of brightly wrapped gifts piled high under the glittering banner that proclaimed "Happy Birthday, Timmy!". Beside her, Bill adjusted his fake clown wig and nose, whispering from the side of his mouth. "Are you sure about this? Feels a bit... low." Molly only smirked, adjusting her oversized sunglasses which seemed ridiculous given the lack of sun under the marquee. "Low? It’s genius. Everyone's distracted, the magician’s pulling rabbits, parents are too busy gossiping and taking pictures. We blend, we grab, we go. Easy peasy." Bill sighed. If it wasn’t for the payoff, he’d never have agreed to dress up as a clown. He watched as a group of kids ran screeching past them, chasing each other with balloon swords. This was far from their usual slick, calculated operations in shadowy corridors or high-security museums. Yet here they were, amidst a sea of cake crumbs and tantrums. Molly’s hand moved to a walkie-talkie strapped to her belt. "Alright, you circle left, I'll take right. And Bill? Try to look jolly, will you?" With that, they both stood, straightening their ridiculous costumes, merging with the chaos of the party as they edged closer to their treasure.