“So, c’mon, spill it,” Bill said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “What’s the plan for this ‘Operation: Spoiled Brat’ of yours?” His eyes were squinting at the flickering light from the bar, making him look like a particularly grumpy ferret. Molly, meanwhile, was meticulously studying a blueprint spread across the table. Her nose was practically touching the paper, and her brow was furrowed in concentration. “Patience, Bill,” she muttered without looking up. “We need to be meticulous. This isn’t some cheap jewelry heist we’re pulling. We’re talking about a battalion of sugar-fueled, over-privileged kids, armed with sticky fingers and a bottomless supply of sugary drinks.” “Well, I never thought I’d be scared of a toddler on a sugar high,” Bill muttered, taking a swig of his beer. Molly finally looked up, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “This isn’t about the kids, Bill. It’s about the loot. And trust me, this party’s got enough presents to make Santa jealous.” Her finger traced a line on the blueprint. “The party’s in the mansion on Oakwood Lane. There’s a side door leading to the backyard – that’s our entry point.” “And the exit?” Bill asked, drawing a line in the beer foam with his finger. “Through the chimney,” Molly replied, tilting her head. “Classic.” Bill let out a snort that almost choked him on his beer. “You’re serious?” “Absolutely,” Molly said, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “It’s the only way to get past the security system - a network of motion sensor lights and a security guard with the attention span of a goldfish.” “And what about the parents?” Bill asked, his brow furrowed. “They’ll be all over the place.” “Easy,” Molly said, a sly grin spreading across her face. “We’ll dress as clown jesters. We’ll be the entertainment. Nobody suspects the clown.” “Clowns?” Bill exclaimed, shaking his head. “You’re pulling my leg, right?” “Why not?” Molly said, her eyes sparkling with delight. “We’d be the perfect undercover operation. You can work on your balloon animal skills, while I’ll distract the parents with some magic tricks.” Bill stared at her, a bewildered look on his face. “You’re serious?” “Look, Bill,” Molly said, tapping the blueprint with her finger. “We need a distraction, and clowns are the ultimate red herring. Nobody expects a clown to be a thief. It’s brilliant.” “Alright, alright,” Bill said, raising his hands in defeat. “I’m in. But if I have to wear a giant red nose, I’m quitting this whole thieving business.” Molly chuckled. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty of nose room in this plan. Now, let’s go find some clown costumes.” “Wait,” Bill said, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not thinking of…” “Oh, absolutely,” Molly said, her smile widened. “We’ll be the best clowns those kids have ever seen. We’ll bring the party to life.” “You’re going to steal their balloons too, aren’t you?” Bill asked, his face full of apprehension. Molly’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Maybe.”