Molly and Bill huddled over a blueprint of the lavish Smith residence, their eyes scanning the intricate layout like two vultures eyeing a carcass. The plan was ludicrous, even for their standards. A children's party heist? It was absurd, but the payoff—a mountain of high-end gadgets and expensive toys—was too enticing to pass up. "You sure about this, Bill?" Molly asked, her eyebrows raised in skepticism. She tapped her finger on the blueprint, right where the grand hall was marked. "Kids can be unpredictable. And sticky." Bill grinned, his gold tooth glinting under the dim light. "Sticky, yes. But they're also easily distracted. Besides, have you seen the price tag on these toys? It's a gold mine, Molly." Molly rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smirk. "Fine. But if we get caught because you couldn't outsmart a bunch of seven-year-olds, I'm not sharing my prison rations with you." Bill chuckled, tracing a path on the blueprint with his finger. "Deal. Now, let's talk logistics. We'll need a clown suit, some balloons, and a very convincing magic trick..."