Molly checked her watch, a cheap, plastic thing with numbers far too large for her small wrist, but one that did the job. Bill, on the other hand, twirled his old fedora between his fingers, waiting for her to finish, a small curl of impatience tugging at the corners of his lips. They were huddled in the cramped backyard shed, the air thick with the scent of rust and determination. Their plan, audaciously nestled between them, was to hit the premier children's party of the year. Who steals from kids, he'd scoffed. Precisely the question Molly mulled over, trying to find dignity in their peculiar profession. "Okay," Molly finally broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper, "what's the plan, Bill? We can't just waltz into a kids' party and make off with the loot. Someone will notice, won't they?" Bill grinned, slipping the fedora onto his balding head, "The clown, Molly. We go in as the clown. Who'd stop the clown from taking presents? I mean, come on, who wouldn't want the clown to have more presents?" He chuckled at his own genius, barely able to contain his excitement. Molly stared at him, her eyebrows arched in disbelief. "Bill, you're certifiable. But, let's do it. Worst case, we get caught and face the wrath of a hundred sugar-fueled toddlers. Best case, we pull off the heist of the decade." Bill nodded, a serious gleam in his eyes, "Besides, what could possibly go wrong?" Little did they know, their adventure was about to be a spectacle like no other.