"Alright, Bill, listen up," Molly whispered, holding a napkin with crayon scribbles on it. "Operation Birthday Burglary is a go." Bill adjusted his ill-fitting party hat, a purple cone with a chipped plastic dinosaur glued askew on top. "You sure about this, Molly? Kids these days, they're ruthless. They'll fight dirty for those party favors." "Those 'party favors' are top-of-the-line, imported, hand-painted, solid-gold rocking horses," Molly hissed, jabbing the napkin with her finger. "And we're not after those trinkets. We're here for the real loot—the presents!" Bill shuddered. "Stealing from children. Even for us, this seems a tad…low." "Low? Bill, have you seen the price of caviar lately? We can't afford to be picky! Besides, it's practically a public service. These kids wouldn't know true hardship if it bit them in their designer diapers." "Okay, okay, I get it. But how are we going to pull this off? There's like, a hundred kids here!" Molly brandished the napkin. "This, my friend, is the key to our success. It's a treasure map." "A treasure map? Molly, you stole that off a six-year-old!" "Borrowed, Bill. I prefer to think of it as borrowed. And it'll lead us straight to the gift table. Look here—a drool stain by the swing set, a juice box ocean, and finally, X marks the spot." "That 'ocean' looks suspiciously like someone emptied their juice box on the floor." "Details, Bill! Are you in or are you out?" Bill sighed. He knew he was in too deep now. He'd follow Molly into a volcano if she asked nicely, or threatened to never share her snacks again. "Fine, let's do this. But we're going as soon as we grab the goods, alright? No lingering for cake." "Lingering for cake? Bill, you wound me. I thought we were professionals."