Molly unfolded the elaborate diagram of the children's party layout on the cramped diner table, the sugar packets and ketchup bottles scattered around it like tiny landmines. Bill sipped his lukewarm coffee, his eyes scanning the messy blueprint. "Are you sure this is worth it, Molly? I mean, stealing presents from kids on their birthday? That's like, next-level scummy." Molly's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Ah, come on, Bill. We're not stealing from the kids, we're liberating the toys from the soulless, sugar-fueled chaos that is a children's party. Think of it as a public service." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You know, that's the kind of twisted logic that gets people shivved in prison." "It's all about perspective, my friend," Molly said, wagging her fork at him. "We're not monsters, we're... toy redistribution specialists." Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. So, what's the plan?" Molly's grin returned, and she launched into a breathless explanation. "Okay, so the party's at the Happy Hippo Playground. We'll slip in during the chaos of the bouncy castle, blend in with the screaming horde of sugar-high kids –" "And the harried parents who are mainlining coffee to survive the event," Bill added, earning a chuckle from Molly. "Exactly! Meanwhile, you create a diversion near the face-painting station – maybe a fake tattoo malfunction or something –" "I'm more of a 'accidentally' knocking over a giant stack of party hats kind of guy," Bill said, a wicked glint in his eye. "Perfect! While the adults are distracted, I'll slip into the gift table and swap out the presents with our convincing replicas. We'll be in and out in under ten minutes, with a haul of top-notch toys and gadgets." Bill whistled low and long. "You know, sometimes I forget how you got the nickname 'The Toy Thief.'" Molly preened, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "It's all about the art of misdirection, my friend. And a healthy dose of Christmas magic." Bill raised his coffee cup in a toast. "To the grumpiest, most cynical heist of the year. May our fake mustaches remain firmly in place and our getaway car not get stuck in the McDonald's drive-thru." Molly clinked her cup against his, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Cheers to that."