Molly peered through the binoculars, her eyes darting from one brightly colored balloon to the next. "Bill, you've got to see this. It's like a candy-coated fortress." Bill squinted at the scene from their van parked across the street. "Fort Knox ain't got nothing on a kid's birthday bash. But I reckon we've tackled tougher nuts than this piñata palace." Molly lowered the binoculars, a smirk playing on her lips. "Tougher nuts, huh? Remember that petting zoo job? I still can't look at a llama without breaking into a sweat." "Hey, that llama had a nose for thieves. But this gig? Piece of cake," Bill said, confidence oozing from every pore. "Cake," Molly scoffed. "That's your weakness, Bill. If there's one thing that'll blow our cover, it's you face-planting into the birthday cake." "I've got more self-control than that," Bill protested, adjusting his ski mask. "Besides, we're after the presents, not the pastries." Molly checked her watch. "We've got twenty minutes before the little monsters descend upon that bouncy castle. We need a plan that's tighter than the elastic on a superhero underwear set." "Easy peasy," Bill replied, pulling out a sketch of the backyard. "We go in through the side gate—it's closer to the gift table. I distract the clown, you nab the goods. In and out before anyone can say 'pin the tail on the donkey'." Molly raised an eyebrow. "And just how are you planning to distract this clown? Juggle knives? Tell knock-knock jokes? Because I'm not carrying you out of here with a pie in the face." "Trust me, Molly. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," Bill said, tapping his temple. "I'll have that clown so twisted he'll forget his own name." "Fine, but if things go sideways, we abort. I don't want to end up on some 'Most Wanted' list for ruining Timmy's fifth birthday." Bill chuckled. "Relax, Mol. We're not ruining anything. We're just... boosting the economy for seven-year-olds everywhere." Molly rolled her eyes. "Boosting the economy? You mean lining our pockets with Hot Wheels and Barbie Dreamhouses." "Exactly. And think of the joy we'll bring when we donate half this stuff to the local shelter," Bill said, a hint of sincerity in his voice. "Yeah, yeah, we're modern-day Robin Hoods," Molly quipped, checking her gear. "Alright, let's do this. But if I see you so much as glance at the cake, I'm pushing you into the ball pit and making a run for it." "Deal," Bill agreed, opening the van door. "Let's go make some kids' day a little less special." They slipped out of the van, their dark clothes blending into the shadows as they made their way toward the side gate. Molly glanced back at Bill, who was doing some surprisingly impressive clown stretches. "You're not actually going to join the circus after this, are you?" she asked, only half-joking. Bill grinned. "Only if the big top comes with a heist-proof safe." With a shared nod, they moved into position, the countdown to chaos ticking away in their heads. Today, the only thing getting blown out would be the candles on the birthday cake—provided Bill could keep his sweet tooth in check.