Molly peered over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, Bill, how do you feel about piñatas?" Bill, sprawled across the faded sofa, looked up from his notebook. "Piñatas? As in candy and kids swinging bats?" "Exactly," Molly grinned, setting her cup down with a clink. "Lots of shiny presents too, ripe for the picking. There's a big one this Saturday. Little Timmy Carlton’s seventh birthday – action figures, gadgets, the works!" Bill chuckled. "Stealing from kids, Moll? That’s low, even for us." "Oh, come on," Molly scoffed. "Think of it as... redistribution of wealth. Besides, Timmy's dad is that hotshot lawyer who got the Henderson estate, remember? They won’t miss a few toys." Bill scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, let’s say we do this. What’s our in?" Molly leaned forward, her fingers drummed excitedly on the table. "We go as entertainers. You're hilarious. You can pull off a clown, right?" "A clown? Why am I the clown?" "Because you’re naturally funny! And I’ll be the magician. It's perfect cover. I’m already good with sleight of hand. Plus, who'd suspect the entertainment?" "Fair enough," Bill conceded with a smirk. "Do you know how to pull a rabbit out of a hat?" "Better," Molly winked. "I can make a whole table of presents disappear." "Alright, magician, what’s the plan for the great escape?" "We’ll need a distraction. Maybe a grand finale trick. Something with smoke or a big flash, then poof! We're gone with the goods." "And the getaway?" "Van out back, disguised as the party rental service. We load up under the guise of packing up our gear, and off we go." Bill nodded, warming to the idea. "This might actually work, Molly." "It will work," she assured him confidently. "We just need to be smooth, slick, charming...” Bill raised an eyebrow. “And dressed like a clown.” "And dressed like a clown," Molly agreed with a laugh. "Okay, so when do we case the joint?" Bill asked, reaching for his calendar. "Thursday. We go as a delivery crew for some early supplies. Scout out the layout, find the best spots for the show and the getaway." "Sounds good," Bill nodded. "You know, for a thief, you sure do think like a kid at a candy store." Molly smirked. "All the best crooks do, Bill. Now, let's make sure we have what we need. Clown suit for you, magic kit for me, smoke bombs, and maybe some of that disappearing ink just for kicks." Bill groaned. "I can't believe I’m going to be a clown." "Don’t worry," Molly teased. "I'll make sure you're the funniest clown there. Besides, if we pull this off, we’ll be laughing all the way to the bank." With a conspiratorial grin, Molly and Bill clinked their coffee cups together, sealing their audacious plan. As they started listing the materials they’d need, the living room was filled with laughter and the scribbling of notes—the sound of two thieves plotting the heist of a lifetime, disguised under the joyful celebration of a children’s party.