Molly came striding into Bill's hideout, a mischievous grin on her face. The room was dimly lit, cluttered with stolen treasures. "Guess what," she said, planting her fists on her hips. "Can't beat the pickings at a kids' birthday party. They leave everything out in the open." Bill looked up from his tools, one eyebrow raised. "You mean those heaps of brightly-wrapped packages and cash-filled cards? It's a goldmine, but we'll freeze our asses off in those stupid costumes." "Says the man who donned a tiger suit to nab a diamond necklace from a college fundraiser," Molly teased. "Listen, we sneak in as carnies. Loads of them showing up. No one will bat an eye. And we'll hustle those bags of booty out in our jumpsuits—nothing suspicious about a decorating crew." "Clever," Bill admitted, nodding. "But what's the target?" "Tonight, at the Ewing mansion. Kid’s turning seven, and I overheard the parents bragging about a ride-on, electric dinosaur. And that's just for starters. All the presents will be at the gift table, ripe for the picking, as soon as the birthday song wraps up." "And how will we dispose of it all?" Bill shifted, surveying the sprawl of items in the room like a proud parent. Molly snapped her fingers, grinning. "You know I have a contact that buys back kids' stuff. Five-hundred for each toy, a thousand for the giant stuffed animals—" "Multiple bikes all going for a grand," Bill interjected, excitement lighting his eyes. "Not to mention the cash and gift cards." "Exactly," Molly responded, "We'll make more than at any gala! Plus, I got my eyes on one of those fancy slushie machines. How sweet would it be to deck out our hideaway?" Both thieves chuckled, relishing the thought of the impending heist, anticipation setting their mischief aglow. "Let's make a day of it, Bill. Slushies, clown noses, and stacks of cash. What could be better?"