"Do you really think Bill, this party is going to be a breeze?" Molly said, blowing puffs of steam through her coffee as they sat in a typical diner. Molly folded her Yale Graduate Agents in Law degree with an arrogant sneer. "Listen, my usual heists are no small tasks, but trust me when I say these children's parties will only be a matter of an hour," Bill countered, stirring his spoon in circles and slurping down the coffee, his right sleeve caked in starch as he polished it after every gulp. "Children, right?" Molly landed a piercing glare, following her words with a brisk chuckle. "They have mittens that are designed for suckers who did the same heist last week." "Made a public snatch like this before. Infiltrating prison, escape with an inmate; even taking books from a research centre to build our trap library. We've outdone ourselves countless times, this is one we haven't planned yet," Bill's hands reached for the minefield of tension on the table, swallowing and shifting his hands like he was trying to grasp a specific idea. With a sigh, Molly raised two fingers, pausing for a moment before concluding, "Alright, Bill, two weeks of preparations. We have to go in disguise, and we'd need intelligence of the party's best moment. The most valuable gifts and the timing." Bill turned his bowl upside down, plate scraps clashing dissonantly to the floor. He then looked into the bowl, moving it to his side. Extending it, he added with the thought of a mastermind, "Good, maybe we demand a game of 'cops and robbers,' and hijack the priceless awards. And, we should be able to identify the pick of the bunch, right when they play pass the parcel." His voice trailing, the cogs in motion, Bill scratched his head and sipped at his coffee. "We'll need two signal words. One for when we've chosen the right moment. The next, for when we've bagged the lot and cashing out." "I'm thinking of 'Jingle Bells,' 'It's a Spree.' Proper heist-worthy names, Bill." Molly chortled, giving a shrug as if the matter was mostly decided. She looked around herself, her squinted eyes studying the people in the room, the imaginary setting, the lobes on which they could mount their act. "We'll get hold of the list for the children," Bill preened, pulling a Wizard of Oz invisible cape over his shoulders. "We could jump into the party, serve ladies and lords. Then seamlessly, we'd infiltrate the party while the guests face an obstacle. Become their hero, loot the presents, reverse the situation, and leave before the police show up. A grand scheme that entertains kids, and decoys the adults. Perfect, isn't it?" Her fingers forming a grin, Molly replied, "Just one final problem left, Bill. We need to be wary of the little superheroes. Remember, they are all heroes in training. We can't consider any form of deception. We might need to seduce their admiration before the heist, otherwise, we'll be seen as the villains." Bill's brow furrowed momentarily, then with a gracious grin, he nodded. "Their admiration, yes. The objective, gifts. With the disguises and a well-crafted plan, we should finally ace this worthy public heist."