“Right, so picture this. We’re not talking diamonds here, Bill. This is something infinitely more precious.” Molly tapped her finger against a pile of brightly colored flyers, each depicting a grinning cartoon unicorn. “Toys. Lego sets bigger than your head, stuffed animals radiating more joy than a puppy wearing a tutu, enough glitter guns to make a five-year-old weep with delight. Think of the resale value!” Bill raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re robbing a kids’ birthday party, Molly. Isn’t that a tad, you know… morally reprehensible?” He adjusted his fedora, casting a dubious glance at the mountain of sugary snacks threatening to engulf their table. “Morally reprehensible? Never, darling. We’re redistributing wealth, spreading the joy. Besides, when those parents see the dent in their allowance funds, they’ll be begging for their little Jimmy’s unicorn to stay home. And think of the look on their faces when they see our… ‘signature.’” Bill shuddered. “Please tell me you’re not going to leave another glitter bomb. The epaulets on my tuxedo are still sparkling from the last one.” Molly’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Let’s just say this time it’ll be something a bit… stickier.” She winked. “Think finger paints and a whole lot of confusion.” “Good heavens, Molly,” Bill muttered, rubbing his temples. “Sometimes I worry about you.” “Don’t. Just imagine the haul, Bill. We could retire to a tropical island, sipping mai tais and doing absolutely nothing. Or, you know, we could buy enough bouncy castles to open our own theme park.” “We’d go bankrupt before sunset. Honestly, Molly, haven’t you ever thought about robbing something…slightly more digni—” “Dignity?” Molly scoffed, tossing a handful of miniature plastic dinosaurs at Bill. “Where’s the fun in that? Stealing expensive paintings is for bores. I want to steal joy, Bill. I want to hear the wails of a spoiled toddler whose birthday pony is suddenly missing. I want to taste that sweet, sugary nectar of rebellion!” Bill sighed. He knew resistance was futile. "Fine. But if we get chased by a horde of enraged parents wielding cake knives, I'm blaming you." Molly grinned, patting him on the arm. "Now that's the spirit! Operation Sticky Surprise is a go!"