"Alright, birthday boy's gothy, caster of spells kind of vibe. Seven pictures of bats on his nails. Not a single unicorn in sight," Molly muttered, tapping away on her tablet, squinting at the screen. Bill, sprawled on the couch with a pile of discarded party invitations strewn around him, groaned. "You'd think with the money those clowns parents are dropping, they could afford some decent monster merch. This kid's got access to the everything-black, handmade from mom's daguerreotype kind of aesthetic." "Don't judge aesthetics," Molly said, her voice sharp. "That's how you end up stealing grandma's precious porcelain kittens. Besides, it's effective. Our little goth cottagecore mastermind won't even notice the loot's gone." "Isn't it a bit...grungy for us, you know? I was envisioning a Malibu mansion, not a backyard strewn with moss-covered branches and flickering candlelight." Bill rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I mean, what if Mrs. Henderson finds us amidst the ritualistic pinecones? Security footage won't do us any favours." Molly flicked her wrist dismissively. "We'll be in and out, like ghosts in a graveyard. We're not looting the Bat Cave, just liberating some high-end toys. Think of it as a redistribution of wealth. From heathen goblins who overindulge in plastic to children who appreciate the finer things, like antique thimbles and handcrafted birdhouses." "You know those plastic toys are often made from recycled bits of…" "Bill, please," Molly interrupted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't get sidetracked by environmental ethics. Remember the emergency fund for that antique mirror we're eyeing - the one with the talking raven etched on the frame? This is how we get there." Bill sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'm in. But I call dibs on any creepy dolls." "Not happening," Molly said instantly. "I've got a dress collection right now that would make a Victorian dollhouse blush. You can have the used LEGOs, though. And those sparkly vampire Fangtastic teeth they seem so obsessed with." "You know you're going to wear those teeth, right?" "Maybe." Molly grinned, tapping a finger on her tablet. "Time to scout out the perimeter. They've got an inflatable spiderweb play tent. Can you believe it?"