In the grimy, greasy confines of "The Leaky Faucet" diner, Molly and Bill huddled together in a booth, their heads bent over a crudely sketched map. The air was thick with the scent of burnt coffee and the faint hint of yesterday's fry-up. Molly, a slender woman with eyes as sharp as her wit, tapped her finger on the map, tracing a line through the backyard of their latest target. "Alright, so we go in through the garden," she said, her voice low but eager. "The fence is high, but it's got plenty of footholds. Should be a breeze for you, Bill. You're as nimble as a cat burglar... who's eaten a few too many cats." Bill, a bear of a man with a thick beard and an even thicker waistline, scowled at her. "Very funny, Molly. I'll have you know, I've been working on my fitness. I can climb that fence like a squirrel on an oak." Molly raised an eyebrow. "A squirrel with a nut allergy, maybe. But never mind that. Once you're over the fence, you'll see the patio. That's where they'll be having the party." "A children's party, Molly," Bill grumbled, running a hand through his beard. "We're stealing from kids now? Seems a bit low, even for us." Molly leaned back, a playful smirk on her lips. "Oh, come on, Bill! It's not like we're stealing their puppies. We're just... redistributing the wealth. Think of it as a sort of Robin Hood act. Except, you know, without the giving to the poor part." Bill sighed, but Molly could see the corners of his mouth twitching. "So, what's the plan once I'm on the patio?" Molly's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, that's where the genius of this plan comes in. You see, I've been doing some research. Kids these days are mad for this guy, 'Magic Mike the Magnificent'." She pulled out a flyer with a picture of a clown juggling chainsaws. Bill paled. "Please tell me we're not involving chainsaws, Molly." Molly laughed. "No, no chainsaws. But you see, Magic Mike is supposed to perform at this party. Only, he's not going to make it." She held up a small vial of clear liquid. "A little something I slipped into his drink at the last gig. He'll be spending the day in the bathroom, not the backyard." Bill's eyes widened. "Molly, you didn't!" She shrugged. "Desperate times, Bill. Anyway, that's where you come in. You're going to be Magic Mike." Bill choked on his coffee. "What? Molly, no! I can't juggle, I can't do magic, and I definitely can't make balloon animals!" Molly grinned. "Relax, Bill. All you need to do is keep them distracted long enough for me to slip in and grab the presents. Then, we make like Santa and disappear up the chimney. Or in this case, over the fence. Easy peasy." Bill groaned, but Molly could tell he was in. She leaned forward, her eyes shining with excitement. "Come on, Bill. It's not every day you get to be a magician. Who knows? You might even enjoy it." Bill shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Alright, Molly. But if I end up with a face full of cream pie, I'm blaming you." Molly laughed, clapping him on the back. "That's the spirit, Bill. Now, let's go steal some joy."