Molly and Bill huddled over the makeshift blueprint of the pediatric plunder paradise, a.k.a. Bouncy World, sprawled out on the crumpled fast food wrapper-covered table. The scent of stale burgers and yesterday's regrets wafted up, a constant reminder of their current station in life. "Okay, so the bouncy castle is the first obstacle," Molly said, her ponytail bobbing as she nodded. "We need to create a diversion to get the adults distracted." "I'm thinking a fake tantrum," Bill said, stroking his chin. "I've got a mean 'I want a juice box' wail that'll clear the room." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You're willing to sacrifice your dignity for the greater good, huh?" "Hey, someone's gotta do it," Bill said, grinning. "Besides, I've been practicing my 'I'm a sugar-deprived toddler' face in the mirror. It's Oscar-worthy." Molly chuckled. "Okay, you take point on the tantrum. I'll slip into the gift area while the grown-ups are busy soothing your fake bruised ego." Bill winked. "I'll make sure to sell it. Anyone who's ever had to deal with a hangry three-year-old will be completely convinced." Molly scribbled some notes on the blueprint. "Once I'm in, I'll start grabbing presents and stashing them in the inflatable obstacle course tunnels. We can make a clean getaway through the ball pit." "Genius," Bill said, whistling low and impressed. "And what about the cake?" Molly's eyes lit up. "Oh, we're not leaving without the cake. I've got a fondness for suffocatingly sweet frosting and the tears of disappointed children." Bill chuckled. "You're a true artist, Molly." As they continued to pore over the plan, their laughter and whispers drew the attention of their neighbor, a disinterested cat named Mr. Whiskers, who was lounging in the sunbeam streaming through the grimy window. He stretched, yawned, and padded over to investigate the commotion. Molly and Bill exchanged a look, and without a word, they simultaneously whispered "Cookies" in perfect harmony. Mr. Whiskers' ears perked up, and he meowed plaintively, as if to say, "You're using my snacks as a distraction, aren't you?" The thieves exchanged a look, and Bill mouthed, "He's on to us." Molly shrugged. "Add 'bribe Mr. Whiskers with treats' to the plan." As they continued to discuss the finer points of their dastardly scheme, Mr. Whiskers began to clean his paw, a feline smirk spreading across his face. He knew a thing or two about getting what he wanted, and it seemed Molly and Bill were about to learn a valuable lesson in cat-astrophic negotiations.