"Are you sure about this, Molly?" Bill adjusted his itchy dinosaur mask, the plastic digging into his cheek. "It feels… wrong. Like stealing candy from a baby, but with less moral grey area?" "Nonsense, Bill," Molly scoffed, adjusting the pink tutu over her boilersuit. "It's not stealing, it's redistribution of wealth. Besides, these kids are loaded. Look at the presents piling up under that tree - probably worth more than my apartment." She gestured towards the bouncy castle, already vibrating with the shrieks of sugared-up five-year-olds. A clown with a face that looked surgically attached was trying, unsuccessfully, to herd them towards a plate of questionable-looking cupcakes. "But the cake," Bill whined. "It's shaped like a train. A choo-choo train! How could we live with ourselves stealing joy like that?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Look, you want the diamond necklace, right? Big, shiny, the centerpiece of the Mrs. Bigshot's loot?" Bill's face lit up. "The one with the sapphires? The one rumored to have belonged to Marie Antoinette?" "Exactly," Molly clapped him on the shoulder, "and it's tucked away in a giant, plush elephant that looks suspiciously like it costs more than my rent. Trust me, Bill, we're doing society a favor. Think of it as a Robin Hood situation. Only instead of arrows, we use… balloon animals." She pulled a handful of long, multi-colored balloons from her pocket. "Distraction is key. You keep the kids entertained with balloon unicorns, I'll snatch the elephant, we'll be gone before they even notice the cowgirl doll is missing her horse." Bill still looked apprehensive. "What if they cry? What if we traumatize them for life?" "Bill, they're five," Molly said patiently. "They cry if their goldfish dies. They'll be fine. Trust me, I've seen kids bounce back from worse. Like that time I swapped the piñata candy with brussels sprouts." "You did what?" "It was a social experiment," Molly waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, are you with me or not? Time is ticking, those presents aren't going to secure themselves." Bill sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. But if I get arrested, I'm blaming you. And I'm calling dibs on the train cake." Molly grinned. "Deal. Now, let's get this show on the road. And try to make those unicorns look at least vaguely realistic.”