"Listen, Bill, think about this. It's a win-win. Well, mostly win for us, less win for an army of five-year-olds," Molly said, smoothing down her black silk gloves with a manicured finger. "We snag ourselves a mountain of toys, and the parents get to hand out… well, disappointment. They don't even realize what's happening, do they? Just think their little monsters have lost their unicorn plushies under the table." Bill perused the floor plan of the Crystal Palace, his brow furrowed. "It's a three-story monstrosity, Molly. Kids, caterers, clowns, parents… the whole shebang. It's a human jungle out there. Not exactly a graceful place to execute a covert operation." "Bill, you worry too much. Here’s the plan: we distract, we decipher, we deviate. Easy peasy." Molly snapped her fingers jiving with the rhythm of the mission she had apparently already completed. "You handle the adults, charm your way in like you always do, enter unsuspecting and heroic, rescuing a lost balloon, retrieving a dropped ice cream cone… the usual shenanigans. The disguise is already there, just roll with it." Bill tugged at his collar, a glimmer of disquiet in his eyes. "I'd rather not re-live the Great Piñata Debacle of '09, thank you very much. Last time I played the lovable party clown, I ended up covered in glitter and chased by a horde of sugar-fueled demons." "That was your fault for sobbing when the rubber chickens fell apart," Molly reminded him, her voice dripping with amusement. "Besides, this time it's strategically planned. You disappear into the crowds, chaos in your wake, while I waltz right past everyone, faster than a greased teacup, straight to the gift mountain." She mimed a dazzling entrance, eyes gleaming with mischief. "And what about the security cameras? The foxy lady with the sprout perm who confiscates candy when Liam gets the munchies?" Molly scoffed. "Security cameras? Bill, honey, we deal with surveillance like it deals with slightly melted chocolate. A little ingenuity, a feather boa and voila! Disguised and on the move. As for the foxy lady, a strategically placed whimpering sound, followed by a pointed look at her beloved bonsai tree, should do the trick. Master manipulators, always one step ahead, that's what we are." Bill sighed, leaning back against the countertop, still unsure. "I hope you're right, Molly. The last thing I need is another job ending up on 'The World's Worst Heist Fails.' Last week's 'Escape from the Alpaca Farm' wasn't exactly a triumph." Molly grinned, pulling out a pair of bright pink bunny ears from her bag. "Oh, come on, Bill. Think of the presents! Think of the chaos! Think of the taffy we'll eat in the getaway car!"