Molly, a wiry woman with a mischievous grin, leaned against the brick wall, her eyes scanning the colorful banners fluttering in the breeze. "You sure about this, Bill?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Bill, a tall man with a bushy mustache, chuckled softly. "As sure as I am about my grandmother's apple pie recipe, Mol." Molly raised an eyebrow. "That sure, huh? But why a kids' party, Bill? Isn't that a bit..." "Low? No, not at all," Bill interrupted, his eyes twinkling. "It's a gold mine, Molly. Think about it. All those shiny new presents, just waiting to be... rehomed." Molly couldn't help but laugh. "Rehomed, you say? You're a real piece of work, Bill." Bill grinned, tipping his hat back. "That's why you love working with me, isn't it?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Right. So, what's the plan?" Bill pulled out a crude map, drawn on a napkin. "We go in as entertainers. I'll be the magician, you be the clown." Molly looked at him, horrified. "A clown, Bill? You know I hate clowns." Bill shrugged. "It's the best disguise, Molly. Who suspects the clown?" Molly sighed, resignation in her voice. "Fine. But if I get a red nose, so do you." Bill laughed heartily. "Deal, Molly. Deal."