Molly and Bill sat in the dimly lit room, hunched over a table covered with blueprints and schematics. Their mission: to break into an extravagant children's party and make off with all the presents. Molly, a tall, lanky woman with a mischievous gleam in her eye, paced back and forth, her fingers twirling a lock of her fiery red hair. Bill, a burly man with a bushy mustache and a penchant for plaid, tapped his pen on the table impatiently. "Alright, Molly, we've gone over the plan a dozen times. We know the layout, we know the security system, and we know the code to the safe. It's time to put our plan into action." Molly stopped pacing and leveled her gaze at Bill. "I know the plan, but I can't help but feel like we're missing something. I mean, these are children's presents we're stealing. What kind of lowlife would do that?" Bill rolled his eyes and tossed his pen onto the table. "The kind of lowlife who's contractually obligated to steal whatever our employer requests, regardless of the moral implications. Now, let's get moving. The party starts in an hour, and we have a lot of work to do." Molly sighed and nodded her agreement. "Fine. Let's grab our gear and head to the party. But I swear, if I find out our employer is some soulless corporate stooge using these stolen toys to manipulate the market or something, I'm out." Bill chuckled as he stood up and dusted off his pants. "You and your bleeding heart, Molly. Sometimes I wonder how you ever became a thief in the first place." "I had my reasons," Molly muttered as she followed Bill out of the room, her mind already racing with plans for the heist.