Molly drummed her fingers on the grimy diner table, her eyes darting nervously around the nearly empty restaurant. Bill slouched in the booth across from her, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee. "So, you're telling me," Molly whispered, leaning forward, "that our next big score is a kid's birthday party?" Bill nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Not just any kid's party, Mol. We're talking about little Timmy Goldberg's bash. You know, the son of that tech mogul who's always in the news?" Molly's eyebrows shot up. "The Goldbergs? Are you out of your mind?" "Think about it," Bill said, setting down his cup. "Rich kids, rich parents, expensive gifts. It's a goldmine waiting to be tapped." Molly shook her head, exasperated. "And how exactly do you propose we pull this off? Walk in dressed as clowns?" Bill's face lit up. "That's not a bad idea, actually." "I was joking, you idiot," Molly hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "No, no, hear me out," Bill insisted, his enthusiasm growing. "We show up as party entertainers. You know, the kind rich folks hire to keep the rugrats occupied." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "And then what? We just waltz out with armfuls of presents?" "Of course not," Bill scoffed. "We case the joint, figure out where they're keeping the good stuff, and make our move when everyone's distracted by the cake or something." "This is insane," Molly muttered, but Bill could see the wheels turning in her head. "Come on, Mol. When was the last time we had a job this easy? In and out, no alarms, no guards. Just a bunch of sugar-high kids and their oblivious parents." Molly sighed, knowing she was going to regret this. "Fine. But if this goes sideways, I'm blaming you." Bill grinned triumphantly. "That's my girl. Now, let's talk logistics. We'll need costumes, props, the whole nine yards." "I can't believe I'm saying this, but... what kind of entertainers are we going to be?" Molly asked, resigned to her fate. "I was thinking magicians," Bill replied, his eyes twinkling. "We can use the old misdirection trick to our advantage." Molly couldn't help but chuckle. "Alright, Houdini. But I draw the line at pulling rabbits out of hats." "Deal," Bill said, raising his coffee cup in a mock toast. "To the greatest heist of our careers – stealing from six-year-olds." As they continued to plan their ridiculous scheme, Molly found herself getting caught up in Bill's enthusiasm. It was crazy, sure, but maybe that's exactly what they needed. After all, who would suspect a pair of bumbling magicians at a children's party? The waitress approached their table, refilling their cups. "Can I get you two anything else?" Bill flashed her his most charming smile. "Just the check, please. We've got a party to crash."