Molly expertly twirled a lock of her fiery red hair around her finger as Bill sketched out the party's layout on a crumpled napkin. "Okay, so we've got the candy table, face painting, and bouncy castle. guards are the parents, undependable in their vigilance since they're all snagging too many cotton candy strings for their own good." Molly pursed her lips, tapping her chin. "I say we hit the presents when the piñata gets smashed. Copious amounts of sugar-induced chaos; parents distracted with cleaning up spills and calming the rambunctious. It's the perfect distraction." Bill rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. "Except the piñata'll be trashed by then, and presents will be far from our reach." "But we're not contending with the chaos of a smashed piñata alone," Molly countered, wiggling her eyebrows. "Picture this: simultaneous outlet-cord tug-of-war, lost balloons, and the adrenaline-fueled mayhem of a 'who's ready for cake now?' chant. We strike while the furnaces of frenzy are burning brightest." Bill flashed a sly grin. "Ingenius. How do we get in?" "Element of surprise, my friend. You forge the invitations; convince the parents that you're a once-in-a-lifetime balloon-twister extraordinaire. I'll use my... charm to distract the birthday boy with my magician's assistant routine." Molly winked. "Then, you create a diversion—distraught over your balloon-dog mishap—and I'll slip in during the pandemonium, surreptitiously piling gifts into a wait-ing bag." Bill's eyes gleamed. "And Mom's minivan shall be filled with riches by the time the sun dips below the horizon." Molly snorted. "As shall our Holiday Fund, Bill. Let's break a little more than just piñatas tonight." The pair burst into laughter, their nefarious plan unfolding amidst the cacophony of a child's birthday joy. Unbeknownst to the unsuspecting parents, their children's big day would also be the beginning of Molly and Bill's grandest grab yet.