Molly and Bill crouched behind the towering stack of flower pots by the back entrance of the community center, their eyes peering out over the tops like two mischievous meerkats. The air was filled with the merry sound of children’s laughter and the off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday" coming from inside. "Bill," Molly whispered, tugging at the sleeve of his worn denim jacket, "remind me again why we're stealing presents from a bunch of kids?" Bill grinned, his face alight with the thrill of the impending caper. "It’s not about the presents, Molly. It's about the perfect heist! Besides, remember what they say... small rooks before big crooks." Molly rolled her eyes. "Who says that? I've been around crooks all my life, and nobody's ever said that." "Maybe they should," Bill replied, nodding sagely. "We're pioneering new proverbs here." Molly sighed, adjusting her position slightly to avoid a sharp edge poking into her side. "Fine. What's the plan, then? We're not exactly dressed for blending into a children’s party." "Ah, but that, dear Molly, is where you’re wrong." Bill flashed a bright, mischievous smile and dramatically pulled two fluorescent pink child-sized party hats from the depths of his jacket. "Our disguises!" Molly took the hat, raising an eyebrow. "You’re kidding, right? I barely fit into this hat!" "That's why it's brilliant!" Bill chuckled. "Nobody expects us to wear something so ridiculous." "Bill," Molly said, donning the hat and tugging it snugly over her head, "the word 'ridiculous' doesn't even begin to cover it. What's step two?" "Step two," Bill continued, confident in his overly simplistic strategy, "is the ol' switcheroo." "Switcheroo?" Molly asked, folding her arms skeptically. "Simple as pie. We waltz in there, mingle a bit, and when nobody’s looking, we start switching the presents with these bags full of... nothing!" He revealed several cheap polyester sacks that crumpled as he held them up. "Okay, and where's step three?" Molly insisted, still unimpressed. "Step three," Bill murmured conspiratorially, "is getaway, of course! With everyone busy scarfing down cake, we’re out the door in no time, bags full of loot!" Molly gave a small nod. "And how exactly do we waltz in, mingle, and switch without a single person noticing?" Bill shrugged. "That's where the hats come in." "Oh sure," Molly said dryly. "The hats explain everything." "Come on, we’ve got this! What could possibly go wrong?" Bill adjusted his own hat, securing it under his chin with childish enthusiasm. "Everything, Bill. That's what," she replied with feigned exasperation, but her eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Alright, before I change my mind, let's make history." "Or headlines!" Bill quipped, giving her a cheerful wink. They both took a deep breath, stood up straight as partygoers started filing out of the community room, and strode confidently toward the unsuspecting birthday mayhem, their ridiculous hats perched gallantly atop their heads. As they stepped across the threshold, a small child immediately pointed and laughed, clearly amused by their getups. "Who invited the clowns?" the birthday girl squealed with delight. "Who indeed," Molly muttered under her breath, casting a sideways glance at Bill, who could only smirk as if none of it phased him in the slightest. "Just remember," Bill said quietly, "small rooks…" "Before big crooks," Molly finished, with a slight roll of her eyes. "Alright, let's go pull off the stupidest heist in history."