Molly adjusted her wig in the rearview mirror, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she caught a glimpse of the sprawling mansion's facade. "This is the one, Bill. This is where the magic happens." Bill shifted in the passenger seat, his eyes scanning the estate's perimeter. "Yeah, I'm liking it. Plenty of space to get in and out undetected. And those party balloons outside are a nice touch. Classy." "Ay, c'mon Bill, we're not here to appreciate the décor," Molly said, gesturing to the mansion's main entrance. "We're here to relieve the Birthday Boy of his spoils." Their target, the infamous Party Prince Maximilian III, had been a spoiled rich kid since birth. His parents spared no expense when it came to his celebrations, and with his latest birthday party just hours from kicking off, the presents alone were worth tens of thousands of dollars. Bill nodded, his eyes returning to the mansion floor plan spread out before them. "Alright, so we take the east wing, disable the security cameras, and make a beeline for the gift room. Then we're out, no sweat." Molly tossed him a pen. "You need to sketch me the security code. I've been studying this layout for weeks, and I swear, it's as weak as my Aunt Mildred's gossip network." "Hold up, you know your Aunt Mildred's gossip network is more robust than a Pentagon briefing?" Bill raised an eyebrow, scribbling out the code with uneven handwriting. "What? It's true," Molly said, wadded up a ball of paper and tossed it at Bill, who dodged it with ease. "Your turn, Molls. Hand over the goods on the guards." Molly produced a smartphone with a cracked screen, playing a comically-laggy video of the estate's security guards making their rounds. Bill watched, raising an eyebrow as the guards tripped over their own feet and stumbled into trash cans. "Basic training at the Hogwarts of Security... failure, I'd wager," Bill quipped, returning to the floor plan. "Hey, don't mock. These guys are pros at... um, propping up lollipop stands and opening party inflatables." Molly cackled at her own joke. "Okay, what's the plan for getting the presents without raising any, ah, 'alarm bells'?" Bill asked, wincing at Molly's groan. She blew a raspberry. "Presents. Get it? Alright, we make our entry during the piñata ceremony. The place'll be a nightmare in there – kids screaming, grown-ups attempting to referee and parents photo bombing – it's chaos, Bill. We seize the moment, snag the loot, and—" Bill cut her off with a snicker, eyes rolling towards the sky. "Seize the moment? You sound like that one instructional video in prison, the one they made for us all—" Molly slapped the back of his head. "Hey, my theatrics won't kill anyone, even if they could be used as a euphemism for life in LaLaLand's minimum-security wing." Bill grinned at her. "Oh, I got it. We just 'seize the moment... with stolen cookies and hasty getaways, à la—'" "Bill!" Molly warned, this time, with genuine annoyance. "Fine. So, it's kids' party mayhem, we grab the prizes, and hightail it back to our safehouse to count our loot and plan the next heist. The dynamic duo, born again," Bill concluded with a flourish of his hand, a reckless glint in his eye.