Molly and Bill huddled over a blueprint, spread out on the sticky table of their favorite seedy bar. The dim lighting and the raucous laughter from the regulars provided a perfect cover for their scheming. Molly, a petite woman with a pixie cut and eyes that sparkled with mischief, pointed at the map, her fingernail tracing the perimeter of their target. "Alright, Bill, here's the plan," she said, her voice barely audible over the jukebox's blaring tunes. "We hit the party at precisely 14:30. The magician should have the kids thoroughly distracted by then." Bill, a lanky man with a perpetual five o'clock shadow, scratched his chin. "A magician, huh? Molly, we're hitting a kids' party. Isn't this a bit... low?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Low? Bill, these presents are top-notch. We're talking the latest gadgets, rare action figures, and enough candy to keep us buzzing for weeks. Besides, we're not stealing from the kids, we're stealing from the spoiled brats' parents." Bill sighed, knowing he couldn't argue with her logic. "Fine. But how do we get in? Those places are always crawling with parents." Molly grinned, pulling out a flyer from her pocket. "Easy. We're the entertainment. I've secured us a spot as the world's most unconvincing clown duo." Bill's eyes widened in horror. "Clowns? Molly, I hate clowns. And kids hate clowns. We'll be spotted in a heartbeat!" Molly chuckled, "Relax, Bill. It's the perfect disguise. No one will suspect a thing. Plus, I've got a plan to make our 'act' so terrible, no one will look at us twice." Bill groaned, running a hand through his hair. "And how do we make our grand exit?" Molly pointed to a side door on the blueprint. "We slip out during the cake cutting. I've got a van parked nearby. We load up the presents, ditch the clown suits, and blend into the crowd. Simple." Bill looked at the blueprint, then at Molly, his expression doubtful. "Simple, huh? Our jobs are never simple, Molly." Molly winked, her grin widening. "That's what makes it fun, Bill. Now, let's practice our balloon animal skills. We need to be convincing, after all." Bill picked up a long, twisted balloon, his fingers fumbling as he tried to mimic Molly's deft movements. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, as a pathetic, misshapen poodle took form in his hands. Molly laughed, slapping him on the back. "That's the spirit, Bill. We're not just thieves, we're artists. And this? This is our masterpiece."