Molly tapped her red acrylic nail against the cafe table, impatient. Bill was late, again. He’d probably gotten caught up in a game of street chess in the park. Knowing Bill, he was currently losing to a seven-year-old and refusing to leave until he’d reversed his fortunes. She spotted him striding towards her, a smug grin plastered across his face. Leave it to Bill to find something to be smug about when he was nearly fifteen minutes late. "Did you win?" Molly asked, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. "Like taking candy from a baby," Bill declared, pulling out the chair opposite her. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. We're not stealing from babies anymore, remember?" "Right, because toddlers put up such a fight," Molly retorted, rolling her eyes. She pulled a flyer from her bag, slapping it onto the table. "Timothy's Third Terrific Trip Around the Sun," she read, her voice dripping with mock enthusiasm." Two to four pm. This Saturday. Bouncy castle confirmed." Bill leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "Bouncy castle? They usually skimp on the security with those.” "Exactly. And we'll be long gone before they realize half their guests are missing teddy bears and toy trucks." "Speaking of, how's Operation Distraction coming?" Bill asked, picking up a sugar packet and absentmindedly twisting it between his fingers. Molly smirked. "My dear Bill, when have I ever let you down on the distraction front?" "Well, there was that time with the mariachi band..." "They were supposed to be pan flutes, not trumpets! And for the record, that distraction worked perfectly. You were the one who tripped over the tuba player and alerted the guards." "Alright, alright, point taken," Bill chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, what's the grand plan this time? Talking parrots? Escaped zoo animals? You know I love a good zoo animal." "This time," Molly said, a mischievous glint in her eye, "we're going with something far more chaotic. Something that screams 'unsupervised children's party'." Bill waited, intrigued. Molly leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "Piñata." Bill's jaw dropped. "A piñata? As in, we unleash a sugar-crazed frenzy and loot the loot while they're busy scrambling for candy?" "Precisely." She tapped the flyer again. "Timmy's in for a very unhappy birthday."