"You're joking, right?" Bill squinted at Molly, his thick eyebrows practically touching his hairline. "A bunch of kids' presents? That's your big score?" Molly, perched on the edge of a rickety picnic table, scoffed. "Don't underestimate the power of a sugar rush, Bill. Those kids will be so amped up on cake and juice boxes they won't even notice a couple of cuddly toys going missing." "Cuddly toys? Seriously, Molly?" Bill scoffed. "We're talking about the 'It's a Small World' soundtrack blasting on repeat, a clown with a questionable hygiene routine, and a screaming mob of toddlers. This is a recipe for disaster, not a heist." "Disaster? It's a guaranteed payday, Bill. Think of the resale value on that unicorn plush! We could set up shop on eBay and become the envy of the internet!" Bill stared at her, a look of begrudging admiration on his face. "You're crazy, you know that, right?" Molly grinned. "That's why I'm the best, Bill. Now, let's go get those presents!"