Molly paced the length of Bill's dusty attic, her eyes narrowed at the blueprints spread across the worn rug. “A bouncy castle, Bill? Seriously? That’s your escape route?” Bill, perched precariously on a wobbly stool, adjusted his thick glasses and squinted at the page with a scoff. “It’s tactical, Molly. Tactical genius, some might say.” He jabbed a finger at the diagram. “We hit the gift table during the peak of the bouncy house frenzy, swap the real presents with the decoys, then blend in with the sugar-crazed masses during our grand inflatable escape.” “Right,” Molly deadpanned, “because nothing screams ‘master criminals’ like two adults desperately trying to blend in with a bunch of six-year-olds hopped up on cake.” “We won’t look desperate. We’ll look…joyful. Festive, even.” Bill mimed a wobbly run, his lanky frame struggling to mimic childish glee. “Whee! Look at us! We’re just two fun-loving adults who love…uh…jumping castles!” Molly sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is madness, even for us.” She tapped the blueprint with her foot. “What about the parents? You think they'll just stand there, sipping their lukewarm coffee, oblivious to two grown adults making off with their precious spawn’s loot?” “Relax,” Bill scoffed, adjusting his imaginary monocle. “This isn't amateur hour, darling. We’re talking top-tier deception here. We’ll be undercover, disguised in plain sight.” Molly raised an eyebrow, skepticism radiating off her. “Oh really? And what grand disguises do you have planned, Bill? Clown costumes? Giant diaper pins?” “Better,” Bill announced dramatically, pulling a tattered garment bag from beneath a pile of old newspapers. He unzipped it with a flourish, revealing two…brightly colored, oversized, undeniably hideous onesies. One was a lime green dinosaur, the other a hot pink unicorn. Molly’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.” Bill ignored her, pulling the unicorn onesie out of the bag. “We’ll be the hippest parents at the party! Think of it, Molly, we’ll be like…chameleons of childhood joy.” He held up the onesie against his lanky frame. “What do you think? Pink or green?” Molly stared at him, her expression a mixture of horror and grudging amusement. “You know what, Bill? Maybe this whole heist thing isn’t so crazy after all.” Bill beamed. “Right? It’ll be legendary!” “Legendary,” Molly agreed, “in the sense that it’ll be a legend told to scare other thieves straight.”