Molly spread out the blueprints of the children's party venue on the rickety table, her fingers tracing the lines of the ventilation system. Bill leaned in, his eyes squinting as he studied the layout. "Alright, so we got the entrance, the main room, and the Cake-a-Palooza area. Where's the loot?" "Ah, patience, my friend," Molly said, tapping her pen on the table. "The presents are stashed in the Party Palace Playpen. It's a glorified storage room, but they think it's a 'special area' for the kiddos." Bill whistled. "A room full of sugar-high tykes and a treasure trove of goodies. This is gonna be a cakewalk." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You're not taking this seriously, Bill. We're not just swiping the presents, we're infiltrating a children's party. There's going to be glitter, chaos, and possibly a pinata with a demon inside." Bill chuckled. "Come on, it's not like we're stealing from a charity event. It's a bunch of overprivileged kids who already have everything. We're just redistributing the wealth." Molly shot him a withering look. "You know what's not funny? The part where we get caught and end up on the receiving end of a pint-sized water balloon attack. Now focus." Bill straightened up, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Right, sorry. So, what's the plan?" "We sneak in during the Pin the Tail on the Donkey game. The adults will be distracted, and the kids will be too busy wailing because someone else got to pin the tail closest to the actual donkey. We slip into the Party Palace, grab the presents, and slip out before anyone notices." Bill nodded, his eyes lighting up. "I love it. And by 'slip out,' you mean we make a dramatic exit during the musical chairs portion of the party, right?" Molly face-palmed. "No, Bill, we are not going to draw attention to ourselves. We're professionals...ish." Bill pouted. "Fine, spoil sport. But it would've been epic." Molly steered the conversation back on track. "Once we're out, we meet at the extraction point, and our buyer gets the goods. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy." Bill grinned. "And by 'easy peasy,' you mean we have to navigate a swarm of sugar-crazed toddlers and their helicopter parents while carrying a stash of stolen toys?" Molly rolled her eyes. "You're not helping, Bill." "I'm just trying to prepare you for the worst-case scenario, partner. You know, the one where we end up duct-taped to a table and forced to sing 'The Wheels on the Bus' for an eternity." Molly sighed, shaking her head. "You know what? I think I'll just focus on the presents."