Molly leaned back in her chair, eyes scanning the maps and blueprints cluttering the table. "Alright, Bill, I think we've got our work cut out for us. A children's birthday party, huh? I mean, who wouldn't want to crack open a dozen gift-opening ceremonies?" Bill studied the layout of the party hall, his thinning hair spiked in several directions, as he scratched a whiskered chin. "It's all about the frenzy of little hands trying to tear into presents, Mol. We'll blend in, act like worried uncles and aunts, wait for the right moment, and BAM! We're gone with gifts galore." "I like it. What's the bait, Bill? We can't just show up cold. We need a distraction." "Thought of that, trusted accomplice of mine." Bill waggled his eyebrows. "I found out the party's paying one of those ickily adorable petting zoos extra for a balloon artist to do a special animal balloon bun-gholio. Yeah, I said bun-gholio. Anyways, after the big show, I'll take a hundred balloons, 'cause who doesn't want a balloon animal?" Molly chuckled. "Only you, Bill. So, the chaos unfolds, and we slip in behind it. With the presents laid out like sitting ducks... er, ducklings?" "Exactly. We'll make off with the goods and toss them to the waiting getaway car, which just happens to be a miraculously well-parked ice cream truck. All while the parents are too busy corralling their sugar-crazed brood to notice." As the laughter subsided, Molly grew serious. "Alright, Bill, we're good to go. Just remember, no sneezing. We don't want to trigger any security alarms." Bill cackled, a sinister edge to his voice. "Don't you worry, sweet Molly. Just give me a bag, and I'll pick up any gifts we might've missed on the floor." Molly shook her head, smiling. "Oh, you sneaky man."