Molly and Bill sat at a used book store examining the club sandwiches and whispering excitedly about their latest scheme. Bill wore a too-tight blue blazer, attempting to look wealthy to fit in with high-end party attendees. Molly wore a leather jacket and Dr. Martens, a hat pulled low over her eyes, so she could blend in as an artist at the largest children's birthday party in the city. Bill sipped a coffee with a pained expression, looking nauseated. Molly nudged him and whispered, "Relax. We've got this." Bill gulped and glanced at their blueprints outlined with Sharpie on luminous green paper. "A sledgehammer seems excessive for breaking into a birthday party," Bill muttered, flipping through the pages. Molly scoffed. "We're after priceless presents slot into a loaded portable speaker, and a sledgehammer might come in handy for that speaker. Who's got a ton of cookies to slip into a maid's apron pocket?" "I have a savory-sounding idea for a stupid liquid thing to envelop the guy, making him seem like a giant doughy duckling. Then I can bash the speaker while avoiding getting face sap on my disguise. Careful not to slice the speaker with my bladed concealing boot." "That's fantastic, Bill," Molly said with a chuckle. They high-fived, sealing their next job's planning. Bill exhaled sharply. "What the heck, Molly? Can't we get into this party legally? No gold chains or watches to steal at a birthday party?" Molly's eyes narrowed under her hat. "If this is about chasing ornamental trinkets, I'd rather go after small diamonds with timers hidden in movie theater popcorn buckets. Get your mind on the escapade at hand, Bill." "No arguments there," he conceded, trying to hide his dismay with an exaggerated wink. The pair enjoyed coffee together before embarking their plan. With confidence in their backs and masks ready, they'd find a way into the fancy party, making sure they'd convince everybody of their roles. Onward they marched toward the brightly lit gathering with only a quick call to confirm they'd pulled off another great sting this night, leaving the forgettable, utterly unknowable target with stolen memories and overlooked warning signs. Molly and Bill exchanged knowing grins, already plotting how to distribute their stolen presents – keeping some for themselves, putting the rest in a charity bin, and offering advice on more likely heist targets in the future for the reader.