Molly paced back and forth in the dimly lit garage, her eyes darting between Bill and the crude blueprint spread out on a rickety folding table. She ran her fingers through her disheveled hair and sighed. "Bill, are you sure about this? I mean, it's a children's party for crying out loud." Bill looked up from his position, hunched over the table. "Molly, we've been over this. It's the perfect score. Think about it – all those shiny new toys, unopened electronics, and cold, hard cash in birthday cards. It's a goldmine!" "But they're just kids," Molly protested, her voice wavering. "It feels... wrong." Bill straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. "Wrong? What's wrong is us barely scraping by while these spoiled brats get showered with gifts they'll forget about in a week. We're doing society a favor, really." Molly raised an eyebrow. "A favor? How do you figure that?" "We're teaching them a valuable life lesson about disappointment and the harsh realities of the world. It's character building!" "I don't think that's how it works, Bill," Molly said, shaking her head. Bill waved his hand dismissively. "Details, details. Now, let's focus on the plan. We enter through the back gate here," he said, pointing to the blueprint. "The party's in full swing, so everyone will be distracted by the clown or whatever entertainment they've got." "And then what? We just waltz in and grab the presents?" "Exactly! We'll be dressed as party entertainers. You'll be a face painter, and I'll be a balloon animal artist." Molly snorted. "You? Making balloon animals? Can you even tie your own shoelaces?" "Hey, I've been practicing!" Bill protested. "I can make a mean balloon dog... or maybe it's a giraffe. It's open to interpretation." "Great, so we'll have a bunch of confused kids and angry parents on our hands. Brilliant plan, Bill." "Look, we just need to blend in for a few minutes. While you're painting some brat's face, I'll scope out where they're keeping the presents. Then we make our move." Molly sighed again. "And how exactly do we get away with all the loot? We can't exactly stuff a bunch of presents down our pants." Bill grinned mischievously. "That's where the piñata comes in." "The what now?" "We bring in a massive piñata, right? But instead of candy, we fill it with all the stolen presents. Then we make a quick exit, saying we need to 'prepare' it for the big finale." Molly stared at Bill in disbelief. "That's... actually not a terrible idea. But won't it be heavy?" "That's why I've been hitting the gym, baby!" Bill flexed his arms proudly. "Alright, alright, put those away before you hurt yourself," Molly said, rolling her eyes. "So, when is this party anyway?" Bill checked his watch. "It's today. In about two hours." "Two hours?!" Molly exclaimed. "Are you kidding me? We don't have any costumes, supplies, or even a piñata!" "Relax, I've got it all covered. The costumes and face paint are in my car, and I spent all night making the world's largest piñata. It's papier-mâché masterpiece!" Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine. Let's do it. But if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming you." "That's the spirit!" Bill said, clapping her on the back. "Now, let's go ruin some children's birthday memories!"