Molly adjusted the fake mustache glued precariously to her upper lip, peering at her reflection in the dusty window of the abandoned bakery. "This thing is itchy," she muttered, gingerly poking at the coarse hairs. "And it smells like burnt sugar." Bill, disguised as a clown with an alarmingly large red nose, snorted with laughter. "You look ridiculous, Moll. But hey, if it convinces the kiddies we're harmless, then it's a win." He tapped a crumpled map on the table. "The plan's simple. We waltz in, mingle with the balloon animals and the pony rides, and when the parents get distracted, we grab the loot." "Loot? You mean fluffy toys and plastic action figures?" Molly scoffed. "I was hoping for something a little more... valuable." Bill grinned. "Don't worry, there's always a stash of cash tucked away somewhere. Birthday money, you know. Think of it as a bonus." He winked. "Besides, who can resist a good heist, even if it involves a bunch of screaming toddlers?" Molly sighed, smoothing down her clown wig. "Fine. But if I get covered in glitter, I'm blaming you."