Molly and Bill huddled around a rickety card table in the back of their warehouse hideout, a map of the upcoming "Little Legends" birthday party spread out before them. The area was lit only by the glow of Bill's laptop, casting eerie shadows across their faces. "This is it, Molly," Bill whispered, his voice laced with excitement. "The mother lode. Little Jimmy's got an entire room filled with presents." Molly adjusted her glasses, darts of frustration dancing in her eyes. "I told you, Bill, this isn't the Ritz. Kids don't leave precious baubles lying about. We need a better plan." "We?" Bill corrected, a impish grin spreading across his face. "I thought you left the 'we' out of this heist, love? You know, due to the whole 'police thing'?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Pfft, I've got it all taken care of. disguise, forgery, the whole nine yards. Just don't mess it up this time." "Right, right. So, we sneak in, grab the goods, and then—" Bill paused, staring at his laptop screen. "Wait a minute. You see this? Their mother is hiring a clown." Molly snorted. "Well, that should make our jobs a hell of a lot easier. Clown-scamming its way into a party? Piece of cake." Bill chuckled, rubbing his hands together. "And then, we make off with the loot like the cackling bandits we are." Their laughs echoed through the dimly lit warehouse, and in that moment, the prospect of a children's party heist seemed like the perfect caper to them. United in their criminal genius, they eagerly plotted how to pull it off without anyone noticing. Not that they kept track of such things—but this one just might top their past shenanigans.