“Molly, tell me you see this.” Bill pointed to the newspaper spread across the table, his finger jabbing a photo showcasing a mountain of brightly wrapped packages. Molly, perched on a bar stool with a mug of lukewarm tea, leaned forward. “‘Lavish Birthday Bash for Mayor’s Son, Timmy,’” she read aloud, her voice dripping with faux-luxury. “Don’t tell me, he’s turning…five?” Bill scoffed. “Six, actually. And you see that playhouse? Solid cedar, imported from Norway. Apparently, standard playhouses aren’t good enough for Timmy ‘Golden Child’ Henderson.” “Shameful displays of wealth are practically begging to be redistributed,” Molly mused, taking a sip of her tea. "So, what's the plan, Captain? We storming the bouncy castle at dawn?” Bill slammed his hand on the table, making Molly jump. “That’s just it! It’s a costume party! Fairies, superheroes, the whole shebang. We’ll blend right in.” Molly raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You, Bill ‘I haven’t worn anything but sweatpants in a decade’ Turner, are suggesting we infiltrate a child’s birthday party dressed as… what exactly?” “I’m thinking… pirate! Yeah, a dashing pirate. You can be… I don’t know, a mermaid? You like the water.” He grinned, pleased with his ingenuity. Molly grimaced. “Firstly, it’s October. Not exactly mermaid weather. Secondly, have you seen the state of my bathtub? I wouldn’t call myself ‘one with the sea.’” Bill rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, you’re right. Too obvious anyway. We need to think like a kid. What’s the coolest thing in the world right now?” Molly’s eyes narrowed. “Don't tell me you're suggesting we...” Bill grinned, “Oh, I’m definitely suggesting we go as dinosaurs. Think about it, giant inflatable costumes, nobody would suspect a thing!” Molly stared at him, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Do they make a T-Rex big enough to carry a six-year-old’s weight in solid-gold action figures?” Bill chuckled. “Leave that to me. This just might be our easiest heist yet.”