Molly flicked the tip of her pinky nail against a cupcake in the corner of the dimly lit cellar. “Bill, are you sure this is the best place to plan a heist? I mean, a dank basement smells like regret and old pizza.” Bill leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “It's the perfect spot, Molly! No one looks for a criminal mastermind in a musty cellar filled with expired mustard.” Molly rolled her eyes. “Right, because that disguises us as harmless ham enthusiasts.” Bill laughed. “Seriously, though. Have you seen those presents? I can almost taste the glory.” He waved his hands dramatically, mimicking a movie director. “Action figures, plush toys, even—wait for it—an entire cake!” “Okay, I’m in for the cake. But are you really prepared to dress as clowns?” “Why not? Clowns steal the show, and they’re creepy enough to go unnoticed! It’s genius!” He stood straight, adjusting an imaginary clown wig, then made a honking noise. “Honk honk!” Molly squeezed her temples. “A clown?” “Sure! We could even name ourselves! Like… Bubbles and Squeakers!” He grinned wide. “Bill, I think you’ve been watching too many cartoon heist movies. We need to keep it simple, like ninjas.” “Ninjas don’t steal from kids’ parties,” Bill replied, eyes widening. “They steal from museums and bank vaults!” “What if they have a ninja-themed party?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “You know, kids these days love that stuff.” “Okay, so let’s be ninjas but with a clown twist!” he declared, spinning around. “A ninja clown fusion!” Molly coughed in a laugh. “Just when I thought your ideas couldn’t get worse.” She leaned against the wall beside him. “Seriously, let’s pick a solid plan here. The birthday kid’s parents will be distracted, but we have to—” “Blend in! I get it!” Bill was standing with exaggerated enthusiasm, mimicking stealthy movements. “Keep calm and act like we belong. Grab the loot and vanish!” “Yeah, but what if they see us? Or worse, what if a child calls the police?” Molly waved her arms like an orchestra conductor. “There’s nothing more terrifying than a squad of six-year-olds chasing you with mini police badges!” “True, but think about the glory!” Bill’s eyes lit up again. “One day, they’ll write books about our heist! Children’s books! ‘Molly and Bill: The Scandalous Party Crashers!’” “Or worse, an entire line of plush toys based on us,” she replied, shuddering. “Look, Bill, I just want to get in, snag the gifts, and be done. What’s the plan for the actual heist?” “Alright,” he said, regaining his focus. “We go in during the magic show. Everyone will be distracted when the magician makes his assistant disappear. Then we rush in, grab the presents, and skedaddle by the time the audience bursts into applause!” “And if he doesn’t make her disappear?” Molly challenged. “What if he makes us disappear?” Bill scratched his head, clearly considering it. “You’re right. I guess we should’ve practiced some more… ninja disappearing tricks.” Molly burst out laughing. “Who knew heists were this complicated? Maybe we should just stick with birthday cake!” “Cake and presents!” Bill declared, throwing his arms wide like a joyful child. “Now that’s an epic heist!”