Molly and Bill pored over the schematics of the kiddie party palace, their eyes scanning the layout of ball pits and bounce houses. They sat in a dingy motel room, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and desperation. "Okay, so the gift table is in the main hall, right next to the piñata," Molly said, her finger tracing the path on the blueprint. "That's right," Bill replied, "but we need to get past the birthday boy's ninja-trained security team. I mean, have you seen those kids? They're like tiny, sugar-fueled ninjas." Molly chuckled. "That's why we're going in disguised as a pair of awkward clown assistants. We'll blend right in." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You're going to wear a bright orange wig and oversized shoes? You're going to draw more attention to yourself than a siren on a fire truck." Molly shrugged. "Hey, it's a calculated risk. We'll just have to honk our horns and squirt water at anyone who gets too close." Bill shook his head. "I'm only doing this because I need a new laptop. What's with you? You're not exactly hurting for cash." Molly's grin was mischievous. "I've got a buyer lined up for a bunch of teddy bears and glittery tiaras. It's going to be a big score, Bill."