Molly and Bill huddled in the alley, their breaths visible in the chilly night air. The children's party was in full swing next door, the muffled laughter and music filtering through the thin walls. Molly, a petite woman with a penchant for vintage dresses and a sharp mind, was meticulously checking her gear. Bill, her lanky accomplice with a face that could sell ice to a polar bear, was trying to keep his nerves in check. "Alright, Bill," Molly said, her voice barely above a whisper, "You're sure about this? We've never pulled a job like this before." Bill swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing like a buoy in a storm. "Positive, Mol. I've been to enough of these things as a kid. I know the drill." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You were a kid once? I find that hard to believe." Bill chuckled nervously. "Well, you know what they say, 'Once a kid, always a kid'." Molly rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. "Let's just hope the parents aren't as nostalgic as you. Now, remember the plan. In, grab the presents, out. No funny business." Bill nodded, his hands clammy with anticipation. "Got it, Mol. In, grab, out. Easy peasy." Molly looked at him, her expression serious. "And Bill? No singing 'Happy Birthday' this time." Bill grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "No promises, Mol. No promises."