Molly poured herself a cup of coffee and slid into the booth across from Bill, who was already nursing a cup. They were at a dingy diner on the outskirts of town, the kind of place where no one asked questions. "Alright, so we've got the layout of the place," Bill said, pushing a crude drawing of a party venue across the table. "We go in through the service entrance, make our way to the present table, and get out." "That's it?" Molly raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like we're stealing pies from a windowsill." Bill shrugged. "It's a kids' party. What's the security going to be, a clown with a water gun?" Molly chuckled. "Don't underestimate the ferocity of a children's party clown. They're like tiny, painted-on vigilantes." Bill grinned. "You're just trying to distract me from the fact that we're stealing presents from a bunch of innocent kids." Molly snorted. "Innocent kids? Have you met any kids lately? They're all tiny little dictators in training. Besides, we're not stealing from them, we're stealing from their oblivious, indulgent parents who are just trying to buy their love." Bill raised his cup in a toast. "To the oblivious, indulgent parents, then." Molly clinked her cup against his. "May their wallets be bottomless and their children's tantrums be few." They both took a sip of their coffee, savoring the bitter taste. "Okay, so we've got the layout, we've got the plan," Molly said, setting her cup down. "What's the take going to be?" Bill consulted a scribbled list on a napkin. "Let's see...thirty kids, average gift price...we're looking at around two grand in merchandise, easy." Molly's eyes lit up. "And we can fence it for what, half that?" Bill nodded. "At least. More if we can get the good stuff – the iPads, the gaming systems...the Frozen dolls." Molly's face lit up with a wicked grin. "I've got a buyer lined up who's willing to pay top dollar for those dolls. We might just make more on this job than we thought." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You're not getting sentimental on me, are you? We're not in this for the joy of giving or whatever." Molly laughed. "Please. I just love the idea of making a profit off of Disney's relentless merchandising machine." Bill chuckled, tucking the napkin into his pocket. "You're a true artist, Molly." Molly's grin never wavered. "Hey, someone's got to make a living off of the birthday industrial complex."