The room was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of a fluorescent bulb swinging lazily from the ceiling. Molly and Bill sat across from each other, hunched over a table scattered with schematics and candy wrappers. “I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Bill said, shaking his head. “A kid’s party, Molly?” “Oh, come on, Bill,” Molly grinned, tapping her nose. “Have you ever been to one of those things? It’s like a treasure trove in there. Detroit-style pizzas, cupcakes with those tiny, crunchy sprinkles, not to mention all those shiny, new toys just waiting to be liberated.” “Liberated’s a strong word. Convince me. Why toys?” Bill asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Think about it. No one expects it. Plus, ever tried selling a Captain Velocity action figure online? Parents bid like it’s the second coming. It’s a goldmine,” Molly explained, spreading her hands wide as if to encompass a mountain of plastic wealth. “All right, fine. But how are we supposed to sneak past a dozen sugar-crazed kids without getting noticed?” Bill wondered, still sounding doubtful. Molly took out a small, glittery party hat and placed it atop her head. “Camouflage, my dear Bill. Pure, innocent camouflage. We blend in, act like we belong, maybe throw in a balloon animal or two.” “A balloon animal?” Bill snorted, hiding a chuckle. “Are we burglars or clowns now?” “Hey, versatility is key. You never know when you’ll need to whip out a poodle or a sword,” Molly shot back, winking. “And what about the adults? There’s always a nosy parent around,” Bill pointed out. “Easy. We bring in some help,” Molly said confidently, tapping a photograph of their mutual friend, Jerry, on the table. “Oh no, not Jerry. Last time he ended up letting a ferret loose in someone’s kitchen,” Bill recalled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Exactly! So we let Jerry work his magic and cause a distraction. At a kid's party, chaos is just par for the course,” Molly reassured, smirking at the memory. “Right, so Jerry does his thing, and then?” Bill asked, leaning in. “Then we grab the gifts, stuff them in this lovely, inconspicuous extra-large piñata. No one checks what’s inside before the party, right?” Molly suggested, gesturing to a massive, multicolored paper donkey by the corner. Bill laughed despite himself, filled with reluctant admiration. “You really think of everything, don’t you?” “Think of it as a talent. Plus, if all else fails, we do a quick cake smash and retreat. Who doesn’t like cake?” Molly shrugged, her eyes twinkling. “I must say, you make this sound almost respectable,” Bill conceded, rubbing his chin. “Almost. So, are you in?” Molly asked, looking expectantly. Bill sighed dramatically, then grinned. “Fine, let’s ruin a few birthdays.” “What spirit! You won’t regret it,” Molly beamed, clapping her hands. “Famous last words, Molly. Famous last words,” Bill retorted, chuckling as he resigned himself to the insanity of their scheme. The world of party pilfering awaited.