Bill and Molly sat across from each other at a small table in a dive bar on the outskirts of town. Both dressed in well-worn clothes, they gazed at the neon signs flickering outside the window, the red, green, and blue hues casting strange shadows around the room. A few patrons drank half-finished beers, their conversations muffled by the sound of an old jukebox playing in the background. "Molly, I heard a little birdy tell me that the most fabulous children's birthday party of the year is gonna hit town tonight," Bill said, his voice low and ragged, "But this party ain't just any old shindig. We're talking goldmine potential. The birthday boy, he's got a sugar daddy who's dirt poor but flush with presents. We can hit that party, and then with the loot, we can live the high life for a while. We could afford the best time for both us, might even buy ourselves a new nine-stage computer-aided connoisseur coupe." Molly pursed her lips, her eyes flickering with an almost delighted twinkle as she considered his proposition. She was no stranger to the heist game, and she admired the raw talent and cunning that had brought Bill to her attention. "Bill, I swear it's just like you're ripening for what you're describing already. Are you even aware of how mad that sounds? Stealing from a children's party! All those innocent kids without a clue, waking up the next morning with no gifts, except for broken dreams. Has your heart grown cold?" Chuckling darkly, Bill reached across the table and rapped his knuckles on the stained wood of the table. "That's the beauty of it, Molly precious. We wouldn't be stealing from kids at all. No, we have to think of the operation like this- we're only taking from those gifts, not from the kids themselves. We will, in essence, be wishing them a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year before the jolly old elf comes swinging around." Molly's smile grew. There was something to his words. Bill's charm had always been an undeniable pull. "Alright, Bill boy, I'll let you in on a little secret. I can find us a way into that party." "Ah, this is the stuff," Bill said as he sat a little more comfortably in the cracked leather chair, "But be clear, keep an eye on your back. There are always lines being crossed in America, and those fools will be hanging onto their presents with the claws of a mad hyena till the last sun sets. And trust me on this, Miss Molly, clean isn't always the best option."