Molly adjusted the fedora perched on her head as she and her partner, Bill, rifled through a list of potential kid-friendly heists on her wooden desk. They chuckled at the absurdity of the task at hand. "It's a children's party, Bill," Molly said, peering over the edge of her reading glasses, "We're here to steal their presents." Bill snorted, rolling his eyes. "You say that's the easy one?" Molly rolled her eyes back at him, stifling a laugh. "Oh, please. Stealing from children? That's the epitome of a low-risk, high-reward situation. I can already picture the smug looks on our faces as we leave with piles of gift-wrapped loot." Bill slouched in his chair, propping his feet up on one of the shelves. "True. I must admit, the idea of leaving those kids with empty stockings and flabbergasted parents...It's just too tempting." Molly grinned, her pale cheeks lighting up like daffodils. "Think of it this way, Bill. We finally become the monsters the parents think we are," she rambled, casting a wink at him. "It's like we're movie villains from an entirely different dimension, stealing joy from little ones. I mean, who doesn't love a good heist and a little social commentary?!" Bill dropped his feet down from the shelf, clapping his hands together excitedly. "Alright then! Our plan is hatched like a master's blueprint. We'll do this in two acts," he declared. "First, the entry: we'll disguise ourselves as funny puppet mascots and mingle with the children. It'll be an entrance none of them expect." Molly nodded in agreement. "Then, my second act: distraction masterclass. I'll animate the balloons, juke our way around with a quick circling dance, and manage whatever chaos ensues. You, my dear, come into play with your most charming facade, as if enchanted by the children. Your principal role is to induce even more attention away from us." Bill clapped his hands together with a smile, eyes gleaming. "Dammit, Molly. You're as mad as a hatter." The pair turned to look at each other, their eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know, we have just executed this daydream perfectly," Molly whispered, softly mirthful as they smiled at each other. They patted their pockets of the faux mascot costumes, as if on cue, their laughter rolling like kettle drums, pure and merry. "Perfect," Bill said, "You, my lady movie queen, were once again the threat of an idea only I could dream of. Truly, Molly, I am now an actor, as such a villainous caper isn't solely to be enacted - it is to be witnessed, left shining in spectacle and mayhem." They finished their story with a toast of the air, almost brandishing it ceremoniously, wooden fists bumping together gleefully, ready to embrace the coming night's merriment in their many ways. They were about to become the antithesis Captains of Joy, and this joy they would disseminate in the coziest and most unexpected way. They would, after all, be playing the children's party prank upon many as if eternal gods of mirth, command over most unsuspecting pages of imagination.