"Alright, Bill," Molly said, tapping a finger against a crumpled map of Mrs. Perkins' suburban paradise, "we've done corner stores, jewelry shops, even a pet convention. But a children's birthday party? You sure about this, pal?" "Relax, Molly," Bill replied, stuffing a balloon animal into his bulging duffel bag. "Think of it as...liberating presents from their disposable cardboard prisons. We're doing them a favor, really. These things get buried in the bin after a week anyway." "But there are, like, twenty kids there!" Molly protested. "What if we get caught?" Bill winked. "No worries, I've got a plan. Red-light district superstar kid-whisperer here, gonna charm 'em like a sugar-fueled Pied Piper. You sneak around, Messi-like, and grab the loot while I create a distraction. Adorable pic-a-boo, bubbles, maybe even break out the bunny under my shirt. They won't even know what hit 'em." Molly frowned. "You're wearing that...bunny?" Bill beamed. "Shiny, yeah?"