"Bill, are you sure about this?" Molly peered out the window of their beat-up rental van, watching a handful of plucky kindergarteners trampoline across the manicured lawn of a sprawling suburban mansion. "C'mon, Mo, it'll be a walk in the park," Bill said, tapping on the dusty dashboard with a brass knuckles-clad finger. "Presents are practically begging to be liberated from those thankless tykes. Think of the loot! We could get new tires for this jalopy, and maybe even a decent use of the word 'heist' in our next venture." A woman with hair dyed an alarming shade of magenta leaned out of the van's driver-side window. "I'm not sure about the moral implications, Bill. You know, stealing from innocent children and all. My conscience is, like, really itchy just thinking about it." Bill rolled his eyes, his own hair a valiant attempt at a peroxide blonde fade. "Conscience? Proverbial itch? You’re reading too many self-help books, Molly. It's not the money. I'm talking about the thrill of the job! The meticulous planning! The daring escape!" He paused, his eyes widening. "And the sheer volume of unopened toys! We could carve a throne out of discarded plastic dinosaurs." "A plastic dinosaur throne sounds…suspiciously unstable," Molly muttered. "Just imagine, Molly," Bill's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Teddy bears galore! Dolls with eerie, plastic smiles! And maybe, just maybe, a remote-controlled helicopter. Our getaway vehicle for future operations." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "See? It's brilliant." Molly sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to resist Bill's infectious enthusiasm for long. "Fine," she said, a reluctant smile creeping onto her face. "But if we get caught, I'm blaming you and your ludicrous plastic throne obsession." "Deal," Bill grinned, clapping his hands together. "Now, let's draw up a game plan. We'll need a distraction, an entry point, and a way to carry all the loot without setting off any car alarms. Maybe a few clown noses for added theatrics?" Molly shook her head, chuckling. "You're truly insane." "That's why they call me the mastermind, sweetie."