Molly plopped herself onto a creaky, leather sofa, brandishing a crumpled napkin loaded with scrawled plans. Bill, her partner-in-crime, sauntered in, adjusting an oversized tie with a penguin pattern. "You know, this would be a lot easier if we targeted a mob boss's crib instead of a preschooler's birthday bash." "It's the score that matters, Bill," Molly snapped, eyes fixated on the napkin. "There's an art collection, potentially worth millions, hidden among the toys. Our intel is solid." "But it's also solidly ridiculous," Bill grumbled, sinking into an armchair. "We'll be at a clown's mercy." "Please, as if clowns scare me," Molly scoffed, tossing the napkin aside. "We're professionals. A bit of face paint doesn't unravel our plans." Bill smirked. "You're not wrong, but considering last time, we might want to avoid the cotton candy. I’m still finding the pink fibers in my wallet." Molly chuckled, remembering their last venture where a poorly timed sugar rush nearly cost them a sci-fi memorabilia collection. "True. What we need is a distraction. Something that will make everyone look the other way." "How about a real fire alarm?" Bill suggested. "Nothing says 'look the other way' like the possibility of being barbecued." Molly shook her head. "Too obvious, too chaotic. We need something that creates a diversion but doesn't leave us fighting a stampede of panicked parents." Bill tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, how about a magician? He can perform some tricks, and while everyone's oohing and aahing, we slip in, grab the goods, and slip out." "A magician," Molly mused. "Not a bad idea, but that's also inviting another kind of competition. Besides, what if he turns out to be a real pro and startles us with some real magic, like sawing me in half?" Bill laughed. "Promise not to let him near your waistline, then." Humor aside, they pondered further. Ultimately, Molly grinned. "I've got it. A piñata. Completely innocent, yet the perfect distraction. They'll be too busy chasing lollipops to notice us." Bill grinned back. "Piñata it is. We fill it with something irresistible, like fake hundred-dollar bills, and let the loot fall where it may." Molly nodded. "Exactly. And while everyone scrambles, we swoop in, grab the real loot, and make our exit." Bill stood, stretching. "To the party planning store, then. Let's ensure we leave with more than just a bellyache from the cake." Molly followed suit. "And remember, no cotton candy for you. It's all about focus, professionalism, and not getting your prints on any lollipops." They shared a smirk, knowing full well they were in for a peculiar and potentially hilarious challenge—a children's party of all places. But as they often reminded each other, the most unexpected gigs were those worth the effort. Together, they headed out, ready to outsmart a gaggle of gleeful kids and hopefully a few exhausted parents. A day of stolen presents and potential giggles awaited them.