Molly and Bill sat hunched over a table in a dimly lit room, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of a single, flickering overhead bulb. The scent of stale nachos mingled with the musty odor of the old basement they were using as their makeshift headquarters. An oversized map of the Johnson household lay sprawled across the table, weighed down by a collection of mismatched cups and a weary-looking garden gnome. "Alright, Bill, focus," Molly said, tapping the tip of a magic marker against the map. "This is the front door here, right?" Bill nodded, his fingers drumming a quick rhythm on the table's edge. "Yeah. Kids coming through there with their parents, all unsuspecting and stuff. The party games will be in the backyard." Molly drew a quick line from the front door to a shaded area of the map labeled "Living Room." "And the presents will be piled up here," she said, circling the area. "All we need to do is get past the kids, the parents, and the pet iguana." "Are we still on with the clown costumes?" Bill asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I mean, it's not exactly subtle." "Clowns are perfect," Molly replied, a smile spreading across her face. "No one suspects a clown. Plus, we blend right in. It’s a win-win." Bill raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, if you like nightmares. Do you have any idea how creepy those things are?" "Creepy works in our favor," Molly insisted. "Kids are either too scared to bother us or they’ll think we’re part of the entertainment. We get in, grab the presents, and we're out before anyone realizes what's happened." Bill sighed, tugging at his slightly-too-long mustache. "Alright, fine. So, what's the timeline looking like?" Molly glanced at her watch. "The party starts at 2 PM. We’ll aim to crash - I mean, 'arrive' - by 2:30. By then, they'll be in the backyard doing the piñata thing. It's usually a solid distraction." "And what if the piñata breaks early?" Bill asked, skepticism tainting his voice. "Those kids are fast. Like, sugar-rushed, bunny-fast." "We adapt, Bill," Molly replied confidently. "We'll have backup plans. Remember the cake diversion?" Bill’s eyes lit up. "Yeah, the ol' 'cake explodes and everyone panics' routine. Classic." Molly nodded appreciatively. "Exactly. Only this time, balloons filled with glitter. Distracts the kids and annoys the parents. Perfect cover." Bill smiled, though his eyes betrayed a hint of doubt. "And what about the iguana?” “We give Spike the iguana his favorite treat,” Molly said, pulling a small bag of dried crickets from her pocket. “He’ll be munching away, totally oblivious to us swiping the loot.” “If you say so,” Bill murmured, though his brow furrowed. “But what happens if one of these kids grabs onto your leg and screams bloody murder?” Molly leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed confidently. “That’s why I have you, Bill. Your job is to distract any clingy kids with balloon animals. The weirder, the better. Kids love those things." “Alright," Bill said, nodding as he lifted a balloon and started twisting it into an odd shape. “Guess it’s showtime then.” Molly clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Now, let’s get ready. We’ve got a party to crash and presents to steal." Bill grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Let’s make it a birthday they’ll never forget.”