Molly, a svelte redheaded master thief, and Bill, a burly African American safecracker extraordinaire, sat hunched over a table in their dimly lit hideout, pouring over schematics of a seemingly innocuous venue: Sunnyside Daycare. "Bill, I can't believe we're resorting to this," Molly sighed, tossing the schematics on the table. "Do we have any other options? Robbing a daycare center of all places..." "Hey, don't blame me," Bill retorted, jabbing a meaty finger at the floor plan. "You're the one who lost our retirement fund at that darned underground bingo tournament. We're desperate, sister. Desperate times, desperate..." "...measures, I know, I know," Molly interrupted, running a hand through her disheveled locks. "But a children's party? What kind of lowlifes are we?" Bill shrugged, unperturbed. "The kind who don't want to be eating cat food for the next decade. Besides, they're just one-percenters' kids. They won't even miss a few presents. It's practically a public service." Molly rolled her eyes. "A likely story. Fine, we'll do it your way. But I better not see any giant bouncy castles on that suspect list." "No bouncy castles, I swear," Bill chuckled. "Just wait, after this job, we'll be sipping margaritas on a beach in Monaco." The day of the heist arrived faster than expected, and Molly and Bill