"A children's party, Bill? Are you insane?" Molly scoffed, adjusting her beret. "They've got juice boxes and goldfish crackers, not Fabergé eggs!" "Listen, sweetheart," Bill countered, his eyes gleaming. "Think bigger. These aren't your average Birthday Bonanza presents. We're talking legacy toys here: first edition Tickle Me Elmo, limited-edition finger puppets, a goddamn unicorn that sings opera." "You're gonna convince yourself of anything, aren't you?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Fine, but I get dibs on the unicorn. You handle the helium-breathing clowns. Preferably the ones with the leaky clown noses." Bill chuckled. "Let's not underestimate the dramatics of a clown on helium. You know what they say, laughter is the best distraction." "Which is why I'm bringing a kazoo," Molly grinned. "A high-pitched kazoo, specifically designed to induce ka-razy-making earworm melodies." "Genius, Molly, pure genius," Bill praised, clapping his hands. "We might just pull this off. Just think, riding up the drainpipe, kazoo symphony leading the way, a mountain of loot at the end. Like a whimsical, slightly terrifying Robin Hood, but for toys."