Molly and Bill sat in the cramped, cluttered van, pouring over a hand-drawn map of the party venue. Molly's eyes sparkled with mischief as she traced the layout of the kiddie play zones. "Alright, so the bounce house is here, the ball pit is here, and the gift table is... oh, sweet mother of all things good, right in front of the 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey' station." Bill's face contorted in a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Why are we breaking into a children's party, again?" Molly's grin grew wider. "Because, my friend, that's where the real adult treasure is hidden: in the gift-wrapped boxes of overpriced, battery-draining toys that parents will spend the next year stepping on." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You're a sick, twisted woman, Molly. I love it." Molly's laughter was like a miniature explosion of gleeful chaos. "That's why they call me 'The Gift Bandit'! Now, let's get down to business. We need to plan our exit strategy... and by 'exit strategy', I mean our getaway in the giant, inflatable unicorn float."