“Alright, Bill, do you have the plan?” Molly asked, tossing a glittery party hat aside like it was a spider. “Plan? Oh, I thought we were just winging it, like real professionals,” Bill replied, glancing at the pinwheel decorations swirling in the breeze. “Winging it? Bill, this isn't a Tuesday night poker game! These are kids we're talking about,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “They've got cake and presents. The stakes are high!” “Yeah, but kids are easily distracted. It’s like robbing a bank with a bunch of kittens running around.” He chuckled. “Right! But have you forgotten what happened last time? You got distracted by a bouncy castle. We lost the loot!” “Hey, in my defense, that castle was epic. Just look at all the colors!” Bill grinned sheepishly. “Colors! You’re a thief, not an art critic. Focus! How do we get in?” “Simple! We pretend to be... I don’t know... clowns!” he said, gesturing wildly. “Big shoes, bright wigs, the whole deal!” “Clowns. Seriously? Every kid there will recognize us as fakers. Your eyebrows alone are suspicious,” Molly pointed out, barely suppressing a laugh. “Okay, okay! No clowns. How about party mascots? I could be a giant cake! And you... a balloon?” “A balloon? I would rather dress up like a despairing piñata! Just use your brain for a second, Bill.” “Fine! No cake, no balloons. What about this—a delivery service?” he suggested, his eyes lighting up. “We knock on the door, and say we’re here to pick up… uh, lost presents!” “Lost presents—aren't we a day late for the 'Lost and Found'?” she smirked. “Alright, fine! We’ll say we’re here for the surplus gifts. Charity or something!” “Surplus presents? Who buys that? They’ll ask questions!” “Just—what if I wear a fake mustache? Say I’m from the ‘Gift Recovery Unit?’” “Bill, are you kidding? No one trusts a mustachioed guy with a clipboard. It screams ‘weird’! Now I’d trust someone dressed as a lamp before I trust you.” “Okay, I’ll ditch the mustache. Maybe I can show up with a box and just—” “Just hold it like you’re about to smash a piñata?” she interrupted. “Look, we need something less chaotic. What if we dress up in matching outfits like waiters?” “Waiters? I don’t even like waiting for food! You think I’ll be good at it?” “Just act natural! I bought a couple of vests. We’ll blend in while handing out snacks instead of stealing toys,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “Handing out snacks? They’d catch us in seconds. Kids love snacks! They’ll notice when we steal their toy box!” “Fine! We take snacks and build rapport,” she said, sighing dramatically. “How about we bring the adults along? Win them over. You know, smile and charm them!” “Yeah, right! ‘Excuse us, ma’am, while we rob this place—don’t mind me finishing your hot dog.’” “Okay, don’t finish their hot dogs!” she huffed. “It’s plan B, alright? But we must choose our targets wisely.” “Let’s just steal the cake, Molly. We can call it a compromise!” “Way to think small, Bill. Still, the cake could work!” “Then it’s settled! The Great Cake Heist begins!” Bill thumped his fist on the table, nearly knocking over the paper plates. “Now, about that... did you remember to bring the getaway car?” “Oh, you know me! Always prepared! It’s parked outside—fingers crossed, it didn’t get towed.” “Bill! It better not be in a no-parking zone!” “Can’t a thief have a little fun?!"