Molly scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad, her brow furrowed in concentration. Bill leaned against the counter, a sly grin spreading across his face as he surveyed the spread before them: spreadsheets, floor plans, and lists of party supplies. "Okay, got it," Molly muttered, jotting down a final note. "We hit at 3:47 PM, just when the adults are distracted by the piñata. You'll do the front door, I'll take the service entrance. Timer set for five minutes, then we meet back here and split the haul." Bill nodded, unwrapping a pack of gum. "Sounds like a solid plan. What's the payoff?" Molly beamed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Twenty-three Christmas trees, twenty-seven stuffed animals, and a kid's-eye view of the state-of-the-art bouncy castle. We'll make a killing – specifically, a killing on e-bay." Bill chuckled, blowing a bubble. "Always was a sucker for a good gift. Now, what's the security like? I don't want to get caught in a sea of screaming sugar-high kids." Molly rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Let's just say the security guard's last job was at a Renaissance faire. I managed to get my hands on his résumé. Bonus: his extensive experience in wielding foam jousting lances will somehow, miraculously translate to making a good cup of coffee behind the front desk." Bill snorted, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Sounds like a safe bet. What's the layout of the building?" Molly pushed the legal pad across the counter, pointing out several rooms on the floor plan. "The party area's self-contained, but there are some storage closets between that and the main hallway. Here's where the cash register is kept – just in case we need an extra boost to our take." Bill's eyes lingered on the blueprint before snapping back to Molly's face. "You're a bloody genius. I forget why we're called the 'Misfit Merry Maids of Thievery' sometimes." Molly's grin faltered for a moment before resuming its usual mischievous tilt. "Hey, 'Misfit' has a nice ring to it, don't you think? 'Misfit' implies a certain level of sophistication, of refinement—" "—of chaos, yeah, I get it," Bill cut in, winking. The conversation trailed off as they both mentally rehearsed the heist, envisioning the piles of loot they'd accumulate by the end of the afternoon. Molly scribbled another note on the legal pad. "Right, so we'll need to get the timing down – exactly how many seconds it takes to grab the presents and make a break for it." Bill snagged the pen from Molly's hand and added a cartoonish explosion between two of the planned events. "Not if I get to use a smoke bomb first – then we'll see some real timing." Molly winced, snatching the pen back. "Boring. Get your priorities straight, Bill. Let's have a good time, not a James Bond film." With another bite of his gum, Bill leaned into Molly, a knowing glint in his eye. "Okay, okay – party pooper. You know what they say, though: time flies when you're stealing gifts.