Molly hunched over the dimly lit conference table, her eyes scanning the layout of the birthday boy's mansion. A sprawling estate in the suburbs, complete with a bounce house, clown horns, and enough balloon animals to choke a small zoo. Bill slumped in his chair, munching on a stale cracker. "Alright, let's get this straight," Molly said, her voice low and even. "We hit the party at 2 pm, when everyone's distracted by the magic show. We take 10 minutes to grab as many presents as we can, and make a clean getaway before the parents start wondering where the cake is." Bill nodded, crumbs spilling from his mouth. "Got it. But what about the pièce de résistance – the bounce house?" Molly's gaze lingered on the layout. "Leave it alone, Bill. It's a trap. I know a guy who got stuck in one for hours. We stick to the high-value gifts: the shiny new bikes, the stuffed animals with the sparkly eyes." Bill's eyes widened behind his lenses. "But Molly, what about the clown horn? A perfectly good distraction – and it's a great noise to shatter some windows with." Molly's expression turned skeptical. "You're not even taking this seriously, are you?"