Molly tapped her pen against the worn table, the rhythmic clacking a counterpoint to the cacophony of shrieking children emanating from the house across the street. The "Happy 5th Birthday, Timmy" banner strung across the lawn fluttered like a gaudy, oversized bat in the breeze. "Are you sure about this, Bill?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the din. "Stealing presents from a five-year-old's birthday party? It's practically a felony against cuteness." Bill, sprawled on a rickety chair with his feet propped up on the table, chuckled. "Don't be such a softie, Molly. It's not like Timmy's gonna miss a plastic dinosaur or a singing toothbrush. Besides, think of the loot! We're talking mountains of unopened goodness, a veritable cornucopia of childhood dreams." "Cornucopia of cheap plastic and questionable educational value," Molly retorted, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She couldn't deny the allure of a haul like this. It had been a slow month. Bill pulled a crumpled map from his pocket, its edges stained with what might have been coffee or gravy. "Okay, here's the plan. You'll slip in through the back door while they're all distracted by the piñata. I'll take care of the front, create a diversion. A good ol' fashioned 'burglar alarm malfunction' should do the trick." "Brilliant," Molly said sarcastically. "A symphony of screeching sirens and flashing red lights will surely draw all eyes away from the mountain of presents." Bill shrugged. "Hey, it worked last time we robbed the pet store. Besides, you're the one with the nimble fingers and the knack for picking locks. I'm just the charismatic distraction." "Charismatic?" Molly scoffed. "You tripped over a garden gnome last time we were out. I had to drag you out of a rose bush." Bill grinned sheepishly. "Hey, at least I made a valiant effort to blend in with the flora." Molly sighed, shaking her head. Working with Bill was never dull, even if he was a walking disaster. "Alright," she said, rolling her eyes. "Let's do this. But if I end up being chased by a horde of sugar-crazed five-year-olds, I'm blaming you." Bill winked. "Don't worry, Molly. I'll throw a few handfuls of candy their way. They'll be too busy stuffing their faces to notice you."