In the grimy, greasy spoon of Mama Lu's diner, Molly and Bill huddled over a chipped Formica table, their heads bent together like a pair of conspiratorial pigeons. The scent of stale coffee and burned toast hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sugary sweetness of the birthday cake they were plotting to pilfer. "Alright, so the party starts at noon," Molly whispered, her eyes scanning the hand-drawn map of the neighborhood, complete with a smiling sun and stick figure children. "We've got a small window before the little rugrats start arriving." Bill, a lanky man with a nose like a poorly packed suitcase, frowned. "But what about the clown? You know how I feel about clowns, Molly. They're unnatural." Molly rolled her eyes. "We'll deal with the clown if we have to. But our main target is the present table. In and out, quick and clean." Bill sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "I don't know, Molly. Stealing from kids? It's a bit low, even for us." Molly leaned back, crossing her arms. "It's not like we're stealing their puppies, Bill. They're just toys. And think about it—we're giving these kids a story they'll never forget. The great present heist of their childhood!" Bill raised an eyebrow. "Or we're scarring them for life. I still remember the time my uncle dressed up as Santa and stole our Christmas pudding." Molly chuckled. "Well, we're not dressing up as Santa. That would just be creepy." Bill shrugged, picking at a cold fry on his plate. "So, what's our plan B? In case things go south?" Molly grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We tell the kids we're the birthday police and confiscate the presents for 'safety inspection.' Then we make a run for it." Bill groaned. "Great. We'll be the most hated adults in town." Molly patted his hand. "Come on, Bill. Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, we owe Big Mike a big one. He's not going to be happy if we can't deliver." Bill sighed, looking at the map again. "Alright, fine. But if a single clown comes near me, I'm out of there." Molly laughed, gathering up the map. "Deal. Now, let's go make some kids' day... memorable." As they slid out of the booth and headed for the door, Mama Lu watched them go, shaking her head. "Those two are up to no good," she muttered, wiping down the counter. "But at least they tip well." Outside, Molly and Bill climbed into their beat-up van, ready to make their mark on little Timmy's birthday party. Whether the kids would thank them or not was another story.