In the grimy, cramped apartment that served as both their home and headquarters, Molly and Bill huddled over a hand-drawn map of their next target—a children's party at the lavish Hartford Estate. The map was smeared with questionable stains and scribbled notes, a testament to their less-than-glamorous life of crime. "Alright, listen up," Molly said, stabbing a greasy finger at the map. "The party's happening in the main garden. Security's gonna be light—they're expecting a clown, not a couple of highly skilled thieves." Bill raised an eyebrow. "Highly skilled? Speak for yourself. I can't even tie my own shoes half the time." Molly rolled her eyes. "You're missing the point, Bill. The point is, no one suspects a kids' party. It's genius." "If you say so," Bill muttered, scratching at his five o'clock shadow. "So, what's the plan? We can't exactly waltz in there and start loading up on presents." "That's where these come in," Molly said, pulling out two colorful costumes from a nearby bag. "I'm the magician, you're the clown." Bill's face fell. "Aw, come on, Molly. Why do I always have to be the clown?" "Because you've got the perfect nose for it," she retorted, grinning. "Besides, you love making balloon animals. Don't deny it." Bill sighed, taking the costume from her. "Fine. But if any of those kids ask me to make a balloon giraffe, I'm out." Molly chuckled, turning back to the map. "Once we're in, we'll need to be quick. Grab the presents, and then we'll make our exit during the cake cutting. The sugar-rush meltdown should provide plenty of cover." Bill frowned, studying the map. "What about the security cameras? Won't they see us making off with all the loot?" "Not if we hack into the system and put it on a loop," Molly said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Lucky for us, the Hartfords are cheapskates. Their security system is older than we are. It'll be a piece of cake." "Speaking of cake, can we at least grab a slice before we go?" Bill asked, his stomach rumbling loudly. "I mean, it seems a shame to let all that frosting go to waste." Molly laughed, clapping him on the back. "Only if you promise not to get any on the presents. Now come on, let's get our costumes on. We've got a party to crash."