The dimly lit basement was cluttered with blueprints and half-eaten pizza boxes. Molly leaned over the table, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Bill, you got the clown costume ready?" she asked, tapping a finger on the map of the party venue. Bill, lounging on a battered couch, grinned. "Of course, Molly. It's the best disguise. Who'd suspect a clown?" Molly chuckled, adjusting her cap. "Exactly. We blend in, make balloon animals, and then—" "Swipe the loot," Bill finished, winking. "But what about the kids? They're like tiny detectives." Molly waved a hand dismissively. "We'll distract them with magic tricks. You still remember how to pull a rabbit out of a hat?" Bill nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Sure do. And if that fails, I've got a backup plan." Molly raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell." Bill leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, "Candy. Lots of it. They'll be too busy with sugar rushes to notice us." Molly laughed, clapping her hands. "Brilliant! We hit the gift table, grab the presents, and vanish before anyone's the wiser." Bill stood, stretching. "Let's make it the heist of the century, Molly." Molly smirked, her excitement palpable. "Or at least the heist of the afternoon."