Inside the dimly lit van parked across the street from the sprawling suburban home, Molly adjusted her clown wig and looked at Bill, who was struggling to tie his oversized polka-dotted bow tie. "You know, this would be a lot easier if we just hit up the toy store after hours," Molly said, her voice echoing slightly off the van's metal walls. Bill, finally victorious over the tie, glanced at her. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, these kids won't miss a few toys. They've got more than they can play with." "True," Molly mused, "but a piñata? Really? We're stooping to candy theft now?" "Hey, diversity in the plunder, it's called," Bill retorted, grinning. "Besides, chocolate doesn't ask questions." Molly rolled her eyes. "Fine, but if we get caught because you wanted to snag some sugar, I'm telling the guards you're the ringleader." "Ringleader, huh?" Bill chuckled. "I always knew you had a flair for the dramatic. Just stick to the plan. We go in, grab the goods, and get out. Simple." "Simple," Molly repeated, checking her pocket for the miniature smoke bombs. "Just remember, if anything goes south, we're not actually clowns. We can't just honk our noses and disappear in a puff of smoke." "Speak for yourself," Bill said, patting his jacket where a pack of trick cards lay hidden. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Literally." Molly sighed. "Let's just get this over with before I decide stealing is less stressful than planning a heist with you." "Ah, come on, Molly," Bill said, nudging her playfully. "We're the dream team. No one can steal the birthday joy like we can." Shaking her head, Molly couldn't help but smirk. "Alright, dream team, let's go spread some birthday fear." They shared a look of mock seriousness before donning their oversized clown shoes and stepping out into the afternoon light, ready to execute their sugary swindle.