Molly and Bill were huddled together on a cluttered kitchen table, surrounded by maps and blueprints, meticulously planning their upcoming heist. The sun had long since set, and the room was shrouded in dim, golden light. Molly, with her hair pulled tight in a bun and a bottle of bourbon at her elbow, narrowed her eyes and tapped her pen furiously against the tabletop as she studied the illustrations of the children's party venue. Bill, dressed in a sharp suit with a tissue permanently pressed to his nose, leaned back in his chair with a glass of single malt and raised a bushy eyebrow. "I still don't get why we're targeting a kid's party," Bill said, examining the maps with a critical eye. "For starters, it's a dang well-timed job." Molly rolled her eyes. "Timeliness is for amateurs, Bill. This is precision, my friend. And pitting our skills against a bunch of jumping jack balloons and prancing ponies, well, that's art. Plus, think about it - the presents are out in the open, just sitting there waiting to be stolen. And the best part? No adults will suspect a thing." Bill pondered this for a moment, then nodded. "I'm impressed, Molly. You've really got this down to a science, haven't you? But we've still got a few kinks to work out." Molly gave him a smirk. "Oh don't worry, I've got it all figured out. We'll blend in with the parents, grab a few drinks and look the other way when welessly, stumble upon the present table. Then, presto! - presents generously given away by the mother's brief distraction while signing a petition for something or other. Easy peasy." Bill conceded. "Fair enough. But I still say we could have found a better target. I can't help but feel this is a little... underwhelming, for lack of a better word." "Oh, you wait, Bill. This place is the gold mine. Kids are the new frontier, you see. And with the uptick in new age philosophies, virtual learning and online gifts, they are hoarding more presents than you can shake a stick at. Trust me, by the time the alarm rings we'll be long gone, with our pockets stuffed full of goodies. This is a step ahead of the game, my dear." Bill looked skeptical but nodded his head, resigned. "Alright, you've won this round. Let's just hope the parents are as foggy after a few glasses of eggnog as they seem. I'm sensing a sugar crash coming our way." "Exactly," Molly grinned. "Sugar crash. Perfect timing. But first, we'll need to fortify ourselves with even more of this fine liquor. Having a plan is one thing, but having a well-lubricated plan is what truly sets us apart. Drink up, Bill-o. It's showtime." Bill downed the rest of his scotch in one swig and grinned back at Molly. "May the odds be ever in our favor, my darling thief." And with that, they clinked whiskey glasses and set off into the night, their wheels spinning with the plot to strike gold at a party of pure innocence.