Molly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the bouncy castle bobbing in the front yard of the suburban home. Next to her, Bill fidgeted with his fake mustache, struggling to keep it in place. "You sure about this, Mol?" Bill asked, his voice muffled behind the bushy disguise. Molly rolled her eyes. "For the hundredth time, yes. It's foolproof." "But it's a kid's party," Bill whined, peering out the window at the colorful balloons tied to the mailbox. "Exactly," Molly said with a grin. "Nobody expects a heist at a six-year-old's birthday bash. We'll be in and out before they finish pin the tail on the donkey." Bill sighed, unconvinced. "I don't know. Seems a bit... low, don't you think?" Molly turned to face her partner, exasperation etched across her features. "Low? Bill, we once stole dentures from a retirement home. This is a step up." "Fair point," Bill conceded, adjusting his fake belly. "But why the clown costumes?" "Blending in, my friend. We're just two innocent party entertainers here to spread joy and laughter... and pilfer some presents." Bill nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You gotta admit, it's pretty clever." "Thank you," Molly said, puffing up with pride. "Now, let's go over the plan one more time." She pulled out a crudely drawn map of the house, complete with stick figure representations of the partygoers. Bill leaned in, squinting at the scribbles. "Okay, so we enter through the front door," Molly began, tracing their path with her finger. "You distract the kids with your juggling act—" "Wait, juggling?" Bill interrupted, his eyes wide. "I can't juggle!" Molly waved dismissively. "Doesn't matter. Just throw some balls in the air and hope for the best. While you've got their attention, I'll sneak upstairs to the master bedroom. That's where they always stash the good gifts." "And if someone catches you?" Bill asked, nervousness creeping into his voice. "I'll say I'm looking for the bathroom," Molly replied confidently. "Works every time." Bill nodded, taking a deep breath. "Alright, I think I've got it. How long do we stay after we've got the loot?" Molly considered for a moment. "Let's say twenty minutes. Any less and it might look suspicious. Plus, I hear they're serving ice cream cake." "Ooh, I love ice cream cake," Bill said, his eyes lighting up. "Focus, Bill," Molly chided, though she couldn't help but smile. "Remember, we're here for the presents, not the party favors." "Right, right," Bill said, straightening his oversized bowtie. "Ready when you are, boss." Molly gave him a nod, then reached for the door handle. As she stepped out of the car, she turned back to Bill with a mischievous grin. "Oh, and Bill? Try not to trip over your big shoes this time." Bill grumbled something under his breath as he climbed out of the passenger seat, his comically large feet already causing him to stumble. Molly suppressed a laugh and started towards the house, her bright red wig bouncing with each step. As they approached the front door, the sound of children's laughter and pop music grew louder. Molly took a deep breath, plastered on her biggest, fakest smile, and rang the doorbell. "Showtime," she whispered to Bill, as they waited for someone to answer.