Molly and Bill huddled in the alley behind the birthday boy's house, poring over the blueprint of the party layout. The sun beat down on their heads, but they were too focused to sweat. Behind them, the sound of screaming kids and thumping music threatened to drown out their whispered conversation. "Right, so we've got a window of exactly seven minutes to grab all the presents," Molly said, her eyes darting back and forth between the diagram and the house. "Seven minutes, got it," Bill repeated, tucking a strand of greasy hair behind his ear. "And we're sure the SECURITY is just a bunch of sleepy parents?" Molly flashed him a withering look. "I've done my research, Bill. There's exactly three chaperones, and they'll be too busy refereeing the sugar-high kids to notice us." Bill snorted. "Sugar-high kids. That's the real heist right there." Molly ignored him, her eyes fixed on the prize. "We get in, we grab the loot, we get out. In and out, Bill. No room for mistakes." Bill grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know I live for mistakes, Molly." Their eyes locked, a spark of excitement passing between them. It was going to be a very good day.