Bill leaned over the map with a smirk, "So, Molly, the millionaire's charity gala's the perfect gig." Molly giggled, "Why's that, Billie? For the helium-filled balloons or the sound of tiny tycoons playing 'Hot Potato'?" "Both, but you're the jokes man, remember?" Bill retorted, tapping his chin. "The presents, those handy concoctions of plushies and acorn cell phones—what a haul!" Molly drummed her fingers, "But what about Little Timmy, the birthday boy? Can't rob a frog?" Bill grinned, "Ah, but Timmy has a twin brother named Timmy. The custody agreement mentions 'any present not donated to charity will be reclaimed by the serving family'. See? A slight to the ethics committee, sweet and smart." Molly chuckled, "Sneaky, but endearing. Let's meet at the 'Ghoul Playground' at eight. Pack your tux and towel – I've secured a guest party at the neighboring penthouse!" "Perfect, and I'll rig up our surprise gifts—" "—Forget 'gifts.' Remember, less 'scarf' of joy. More 'scarf' of renowned thief reputation." Molly winked, "Righto, Bill. Say it isn't so!" Bill pulled out a case with cheap knockoffs, "Soon, baby—sometimes a pilferer's got to keep the hands dirty." Together, they laughed, plotting their biggest larceny with the best possible mischief.