A gust of wind rustled the leaves in the small park as Bill clutched his pea coat tighter, trying to shield himself from the chill of the autumn air. He shifted his weight, the bulky duffel bag beneath his arm shifting threateningly. Eager to get off his feet, he turned to Molly seated on a nearby park bench, "Alright, here's the plan. It's going to be a piece of cake, like stealing candy from, well, you know..." Bill fumbled with the words. Molly smirked and rolled her eyes, her hands tucked snuggly in her leather gloves. "A baby, I know, I've heard this tired line before. But let's hear it out, in case it's different." She leaned in, propping her elbows on her knees, displaying her rather unusual red nose, blue eyes, and her unruly hair squeezed into a beanie, which made her unassuming even to a couple of children playing nearby. "Right." Bill began, pointing towards the large Victorian house by the park. "The Richardsons' mansion. It's throwin' a kid's birthday party tonight, and they're expecting half of the neighborhood. I already know their security system is flimsy at best." Molly hummed, "And the presents, exactly where are they?" "In the main hall, under the watchful eyes of the clown, Tickles the Merciful. He's a retired clown, a 'dangerous' individual, according to the rumors. He has a heart condition though, it sounds like his only martial art is slapstick." "Hilarious." Molly chuckled. "So, we snake past the clown, grab the presents, and then make our exit?" "Nothing's ever easy," Bill clarified. "There's a decoy too—a costume contest for the adults. The parents'll all be fretting over their Kermit-the-Frog costumes, leaving us free rein of the loot." "Sounds like a masterpiece," Molly declared, cocking her head. "How do we join the party?" "The Richardsons are in my poker group. I've basically round-housed them with an excuse that we share mutual friends. I got the invitation, two extra for you and me. We'll be masquerading as an Elvis and a Marilyn Monroe." "Fabulous," Molly breathed out, the vision of silver twinkling on her. "But what about the kids?" Bill scowled, cracking his knuckles, "Munch them and keep going, or we just play along. They don't need to know what's in the gift bags for the adults. And there's more." Out came a tiny flash drive from his pocket. "GPS, blueprints, everything's on here." "Nice," Molly praised, her nostrils flaring with excitement. "Alright, time frames?" "The party goes 'til eleven. We blend in, crash it around eight, announce the decoy. Hit the loot before the contest ends at nine-forty-five. We leave with the principal gifts, those top-shelf toys, and get out before the parents realize their children aren't seeing stars." "Classic," Molly affirmed, her face reflecting pure satisfaction. "What if the clown gets too curious, or suspicions are raised?" "Two sedatives, one for the clown, one for any parent who's too nosy. I'll handle Tickles, you handle the suspicious ones. They'll wake up on the lawn tomorrow, wondering what they dreamt of." "Smooth," she grinned, enjoying the plan. "Then we split up, head to the exits? Slippery when wet?" "Exactly, and let's meet at the car just down the block. Consider your lessons from Ocean's 8—layers, pickpocketing, whatever you need, just be sly." Bill's eyes sparkled, the excitement of a heist flexing the corners of his lips. Molly stood up, adjusted her beanie, and said, "Don't forget the jingle bells on our shoes for silent movements." "Consider it done. And you'll bring the camera disguise, right?" "Got it, until a thief gets caught," Molly smirked, saluting him with a thimble. "The Merry Thieves?" Bill returned the salute, "The Merry Thieves, let's do this like it's another dinnertime."