Molly leaned against the counter in their hideout, flipping through the complex floor plan of the Wellspring Mansion. "This place is like Fort Knox," she mumbled to Bill. Bill, sporting a wide smile, lifted an eyebrow. "You kiddin' me? A kids' party? Easy peasy. They have plenty of distractions. Once the little rugrats are chasing balloons or wrapped up in a magic act, we bust in, snag the loot, and make our exit as they uncover the empty gift table, sparking tears across the room." Molly giggled. "And the parents?" "Booze'll have them too drunk or occupied to notice. Besides, they're more focused on flaunting their status symbols than watching over the kiddos," Bill quipped. "But what about the security?" Molly asked. "Little more than a charade, Molly. We've got 'em fooled, and if the mansion's alarm goes off, we use these beauties." Bill held up a set of vintage remote-controlled cars that doubled as signal jammers, designed to bypass any security system. "Slick. Any idea how we're going to move those gifts, though? They're gonna choke us if we try smuggling them out in a bag," Molly pondered. "Leave it to me. I've already rigged up the clown car so it fits in everything we need," Bill boasted, producing a spare keychain. "Hola, remote control for your new getaway." "Jesus, Bill, I swear, your imagination puts Batman to shame. Just pray those clowns don't come back to haunt us," Molly chuckled. "If they do," Bill assured, "We'll give them a present they'll never forget—fear." Now it was Molly's turn to raise an eyebrow, impressed by her partner's devious yet comical plans. "Let's get dressed to kill, shall we?" Bill suggested with a wink, all while playing up the old adage in true theif humor. "Always," Molly responded, their chemistry crackling with confidence. The duo began to gather their gear, that night's heist well on its way.