"Listen, Billy," Molly said, her voice a low hiss despite the fact that they were in the back of a beat-up taxi, alone save for the driver who was blissfully unaware of their nefarious plans. "You gonna be able to handle the kid factor?" Bill, whose usual tough-guy persona was slightly diminished by the pink polka dot bow tie he was forced to wear, shifted uncomfortably. "What kid factor?" "The children, Billy! The little monsters with sticky fingers and insatiable appetites for candy and, apparently, my sanity. I mean, come on, who throws a birthday party with a bouncy house AND a petting zoo?" He shrugged, his brow furrowed. "We'll just have to be fast, that's all. In and out, before they even notice what's going on." "Yeah, right. 'In and out,' like it's a bloody grocery store run." Molly scoffed. "They'll be in the damn bouncy house, bouncing off the walls like tiny, sugar-fueled wrecking balls. We have to be stealthy. Like ninjas, only with less silent and more glitter." "Glitter?" Bill looked genuinely baffled. "For the camouflage, idiot. You know, to blend in with all the sparkly decorations, the unicorn pinatas, the... well, never mind the clown." Bill winced. "Right. Glitter. So, are we going to split the loot, like partners, or are we going to get into a fight over a stuffed giraffe?" "First of all, I want no part in your giraffe-induced tantrums," Molly snorted. "Secondly, we're splitting the loot, but only after I take my cut – which will be significantly larger because of the added risk of having to deal with an entire room of mini-monsters." "So, what exactly is the plan here?" Bill asked, his voice tinged with apprehension. "Because last I checked, we were robbing a bank, not infiltrating a preschool." "It's not just any bank, Billy," Molly replied, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "It's The Precious Gifts Emporium. They're hosting a baby shower for a millionaire's wife. Think about the loot, Bill. We're talking high-end strollers, designer diapers, solid gold baby spoons. We're talking retirement funds, Bill. Retirement funds!" "Retirement funds?" Bill scoffed. "Seriously, Molly? You're going to use the loot from a baby shower to retire?" "Hey, at least I have a plan," Molly countered. "What do you have?" "Well, if we're going for retirement funds, I think we should aim for something a little more... respectable?" Bill paused, adjusting his bowtie. "Like an art heist. Imagine, a masterpiece, a Van Gough painting, maybe a Monet. We could be rich and sophisticated, instead of—" "And get caught by a mob of mothers armed with diaper bags and a lifetime supply of judgment?" Molly finished, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Okay, fine," Bill said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "The baby shower it is. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you and your ridiculous glitter scheme." Molly grinned. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. Just leave the glitter to me. You focus on the more important things, like... distracting the parents." "Distracting them how, with my charm?" Bill asked, a hint of pride in his voice. Molly chuckled. "No, Billy, with the bouncy house. And maybe some glitter. Lots of glitter."