Molly, stuffed into a tiny pink polka-dotted car, frowned at the map. "A kid's party, Bill? Really? We're stealing from babies now?" Bill, adjusting his oversized rainbow afro wig, chuckled, "Molly, my dear, it's not the kids we're stealing from. It's their filthy rich, won't-even-notice-they're-gone parents." Molly raised an eyebrow. "And the presents?" "Latest trend," Bill said, tapping his nose. "Designer toy cars with real diamond headlights. Teddy bears wearing genuine silk scarves. It's a goldmine, Molly. A tiny, sticky-fingered goldmine." Molly sighed, looking at the house bursting with balloons and laughter. "And our escape plan?" Bill grinned, handing her a clown nose. "Blend in, Molly. If it goes south, we're just bad entertainers, not thieves. Now, let's go make some kids cry." Molly rolled her eyes, but took the nose. "You're buying the drinks after this, Bill. I need to wash the shame away."