Molly paced in front of the bouncy castle, chewing on a thumbnail. Bill, perched atop the crummy plastic picnic table, swung his legs idly, humming a vaguely menacing tune. "Seriously, Bill, are you sure about this?" Molly tugged at her cat ears headband, a frizz of neon pink poking out from under it. "Operation Birthday Bandit seems... ethically dubious." Bill shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Kid's getting a pony. A freakin' pony, Molly. Do you know how much they cost?" "More than we'd get from a pile of plastic dinosaurs and tacky board games?" "Precisely. Besides, think of the chaos. The sheer pandemonium! It'll be legendary." He leaped off the table, landing with a grin. "Picture it: us, disappearing into the night with a sackful of toys and a chorus of wailing toddlers in our wake. We'll be the stuff of playground legends." Molly sighed, knowing full well she was already halfway sold. "Fine," she said, snapping her fingers. "But you're carrying the pony."