} Molly leaned over the table, her eyes flickering across the meticulously arranged blueprint. She pointed to a section marked in red, the location of the treasure trove: a gathering of precious, albeit peculiar loot - presents from a children’s party. Bill, her partner-in-crime, raised a skeptical eyebrow. "We're really doing this?" He squinted at the map, his tone coated in disbelief. Molly, unperturbed, flashed a grin. "Of course! Children's parties are the new gold mines. And besides, who doesn’t love the thrill of dodging balloons and piñatas?" Bill rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile. "Fine, but what’s the play? We can’t exactly blend in as clowns, can we?" She chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "No, but we can blend in as parents. Overly enthusiastic parents, who just can't get enough of watching kids have fun." As their laughter echoed through the room, the blueprint seemed less a map and more an ink-stained promise of a daring adventure, one that promised a haul of giggles, chaos, and stolen joys - all neatly packaged in colorful wrapping paper. Bill shook his head, conceding. "Alright, you win. Let's rob some kids' party. But I'm not wearing a tutu, Molly. Draw the line somewhere." She smirked. "Deal. Just make sure you're good at fake-laughing. Wouldn't want anyone suspecting the real reason we're there is for the loot."