"Molly, I don't know about this. It's a little too Twilight Zone for my liking. How are we supposed to snatch all the gifts at a kid's party?" Bill voiced out his reservations. "Relax man, it's not like they're gonna report the Crimean War if a couple party favors go missing," Molly reassured him. "Just follow my plan. The cake kicking off at 2:00 PM leaves exactly 59 minutes for our sting operation." "So, I wear the omfatt dress?" "Yeah, that's the idea," Molly said. "But I look totally ridiculous. This sing song thing, it sucks!" "Bill, you'll be fine. And quit bitching about looking silly," Molly said impatiently. "How does a tree, a dress and a whole new identity constitute a 'simple plan'? We're no longer imperiled party crashers, but full on party guests!" "Seen through the lens of rigamorole, the psychology underlying the fusion of a centrifugal force and a centripetal force is invigorated through a playful ambiance," Molly explained. Bill eyed her with one of the most exasperated looks in his arsenal. "What the hell is that, Molly? That thing you just said?" "I'm paraphrasing Shakespeare, please keep up." Molly chuckled.