Molly leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning the blueprints spread out on the table. "So, the party's at the Crumpet's Inn, huh?" She chuckled at the name, seemingly impressed by its quaint charm. "Man, I haven't been to such a place since I was knee-high to a grasshopper." "And I thought I was too tall for that part," Bill responded, not losing his deadpan expression as he fiddled with a plastic model of the inn. "Spoke too soon, looks like the Crumpet's Inn is locked down tighter than Fort Knox." "Heh, can't be that hard," Molly retorted, a sly grin forming. "After all, it's filled with sugar-fueled kids, right? We could slip in, grab the loot, and be out before anyone knows we were even there." "You sure about that, sis? Those parents won't be so gullible. There'll be at least three security cams, one at the front door, another at the stairwell, and another in the party room." Bill picked up an eraser representing their getaway car and edged it around the model, trying to find a spot without cameras. "And one for the back door." Molly added with feigned nonchalance. "But we can't let that worry us. The parents'll be too distracted by their 'Pinterest'-worthy cookie displays." "Cookie display, huh?" Hearing the word, Bill's eyes flickered. "I could already taste the ones shaped like kittens and corgi paws... But back to business, that backdoor cam will be trouble. We'll cover it." He pointed to the corner of the model, adjusting the position of the eraser. "Fine," Molly said, and reached for a red stapler. "We'll MacGyver it two ways. First, have you recreate it with a homing pigeon, scare it off, and send it to picnic in the parking lot while we break in." "Daring," Bill mused. "But if it doesn't work, we can always... Dress up as clowns." Both laughed, remembering the horrifying tales of Tim Curry in 'It' but managed to push the image aside. "Clowns got job perks, though," Molly continued. "We can roll in with a big, shiny, wrapped box, let's say. Kids won't care about the endless stream of presents under it. The perfect distraction." Bill only shrugged, not convinced. "What about the presents? How'll we get them out?" "Just in the trunk, we'll need a diaper cake for that," she replied as her phone buzzed on the table. "Aw, man, Eva's kid's on his way to a temper tantrum. I'll text her a lullaby and get back to you... Hey there, little champ, sing it with Auntie Molly, 'Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop so high, the evil thieves will be, when Mommy gets home late, and Daddy's wallet's light.'" Bill giggled, surprised by Molly's wit, before she put her phone down. "Now, where were we?" "Oh, the diaper cake," Bill emphasized, grinning. "How'd that become a trunk substitute?" "Simplicity, my friend. Fill it with enough presents, disguise it as a face-painted toddler, and sneak it past security." Molly outlined her plan. "While the chaos ensues, you look for the birthday kid's pajamas, I'll be in the party room scooping the rest of the loot." "Alright," Bill conceded. "Let's break out some clown noses, perform for them vampire teeth, and make our escape before the first sugar crash hits." "Three ring, one-two, and boom. We're out the back door before anyone yells 'Put the kibosh on the cray.' That'll give us a cover too. Parents'll blame the clowns for any missing merch." "Balls or bees, we've got our part down," Bill affirmed, tapping the model's eraser, now lurched towards the fake back door. "The only thing left is... Let's get the clown costumes on a credit card and new bling for our pockets in our alibi mall." "Clown clothes, here we come, and sales will be soaring for us," Molly replied with a confident wink. "Now, who's got the doughnuts?"