"Alright, Bill," Molly said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "we're about to pull off the heist of the century." Bill, his face a mask of skepticism, raised an eyebrow. "The heist of the century? Molly, it's a kids' birthday party. The biggest prize is probably a bouncy castle." "Don't be a spoilsport, Bill," Molly said, her smile mischievous. "Think about the loot - designer toys, custom cakes, mountains of candy! We'll be swimming in sugar-fueled riches." "And the security? It's practically a daycare center in there. We could waltz in wearing clown noses and they'd probably offer us a juice box." Molly chuckled, a sound like a sugar plum rolling down a staircase. "That's what you think, Bill. Have you seen the parents at these things? They're practically rabid, fueled by sugar rush and a desperate need to prove their parenting skills. They'll be glued to their phones, Instagramming every tiny detail. It's our chance! Disappear into the chaos and grab everything that isn't nailed down." Bill stared at her, a mixture of amusement and concern in his eyes. "Are you sure about this, Molly? I mean, isn't this a little… beneath us?" Molly slapped him lightly on the arm. "Beneath us? Bill, we've robbed a museum of its entire Egyptian exhibit! This is... well, it's a change of pace. Think of it as a challenge! Can we pull off a perfectly executed heist in the midst of a giggling, sugar-crazed mob? I think we can!" Bill sighed. "Alright, alright," he conceded, begrudgingly. "But I'm going to need something to disguise me. Do you have any face paint? Or perhaps a giant inflatable unicorn?" Molly’s grin widened, wickedly. "No, Bill,” she said, patting his hand. “We’ll need something a little more… subtle. Maybe a birthday suit?” Bill groaned dramatically. "Molly, I swear, you’re going to be the death of me."