Molly, perched on a wobbly barstool in the dingy back room of their usual dive, tapped a manicured fingernail against her lips, studying the floorplan of a sprawling Victorian mansion. Bill, sprawled across a dusty pool table, idly bounced a cue ball between his palms. “So, we’re talking a birthday party,” Molly said, her voice hushed, “for some kid named Timmy. The invitations say ‘come dressed as your favorite superhero.’” She chuckled. “That’s how they keep the parents distracted: with the promise of themed cake and a goddamn bouncy house.” Bill grinned, his eyes twinkling. “And the theme is what, exactly? Supervillains?” "You’d have to be one to pull this heist off," Molly drawled, her gaze glued to the floorplan. "And the presents are supposed to be piled high in the basement. We're not talking teddy bears here, Bill. This is prime time plunder. Think diamond-encrusted toys, gold-plated race cars. This kid's parents are loaded.” “Right,” Bill said, his smile widening. “And how do we get past the parents, not to mention the dozens of kids, without screaming ‘we're stealing the loot!’?” Molly pointed a long, elegant finger at the floorplan. “See that old oak tree in the backyard? That’s our entry point. We’ll rig it with a rope ladder, climb down the chimney, and make our way to the basement. Simple.” Bill raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his voice. "Simple? Right. We're going to rappel down a chimney that hasn't been used since 1902, in the dead of night, dressed as superheroes. You’ve got to admit, you’re getting a little carried away.” "Oh, I'm not carried away," Molly said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I’m just getting creative. We'll be the most unlikely superhero duo anyone's ever seen. And the presents? They’ll be our spoils, Bill. Our trophies.” Bill snorted, unable to contain his amusement. “We’re going to be the bane of birthday parties, Molly. The Robin Hoods of the toy industry. We’ll redistribute the wealth.” Molly chuckled, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through the room. “And if it all goes south, we’ll blame the kids. Someone’s bound to have a meltdown, scream about monsters, and cause a ruckus." “And we’ll be long gone, flying away on our imaginary superhero capes," Bill added, his voice barely above a murmur. Molly leaned forward, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “And then, we’ll be off to the next birthday party, with a sack full of loot and a lifetime of memories.” Bill chuckled, shaking his head. He felt a thrill of anticipation course through him. He'd seen Molly pull off some daring heists in her time, but this…this was new. This was a challenge. Their own twisted version of good versus evil; only they were playing both sides. “But we've gotta get the costumes right,” Bill said, leaning back on the pool table. “You know, for the kids. It’s all about the illusion.” Molly smirked. "No problem. We'll be the most believable superheroes they've ever seen." Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the floorplan. "Don't worry, Bill," she said, a sly grin spreading across her face. "This is going to be legendary."