Molly tapped her pen against the blueprint of the community center, her eyes flickering with mischief. "Alright, Bill, listen up. To pull off the heist of the century, we gotta think small. Literally." Bill, reclining in his chair with a less-than-impressed look, replied, "Stealing from a kids' party, really? Low-hanging fruit, Molly. I mean, what's next? Pinatas?" Molly shot him a stern glance. "It's not the what, it's the how, Bill. We're talking about outsmarting an army of sugared-up six-year-olds. That's true artistry." Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, maestro, lay it on me. What's the play?" "We dress up as party entertainers," Molly said, excitement building in her voice. "I'm thinking, you go as a clown. Nothing screams 'trustworthy' like a guy in oversized shoes." Bill grimaced. "And you?" "I'm the magician," she declared. "I'll distract 'em with a few tricks while you make the 'balloons' disappear - into our getaway bag." Bill shook his head, managing a chuckle. "You know, Molly, maybe it's the simplicity that's genius. Let's just hope the loot's worth the humiliation." Molly grinned. "Oh, trust me, with all those presents, we'll be living large."