"Okay, Bill, here's the gig. Children's party, Saturday afternoon. Lots of presents, lots of chaos," Molly said, eyes sparkling with mischief. Bill raised an eyebrow, fiddling with a lockpick. "A children's party? You serious? Those things are like mini-war zones." "Exactly," Molly grinned. "Lots of noise, lots of distractions. Perfect cover for us. We waltz in, grab the goods, and waltz right back out." Bill shook his head. "Still seems... unethical. Stealing from kids?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Bill, it's not like we're taking their birthday presents. These are gifts from parents, probably bought with baby shower cash. They're just gonna end up gathering dust in some closet." "Still feels wrong," Bill insisted, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "Look, it's a job," Molly said, exasperated. "We need the cash, and this is low-risk, high-reward. Plus, think of it as a public service. Those kids are gonna be so busy with cake and games, they won't even notice a couple of presents missing." Bill pondered this for a moment. "Alright, fine. But I'm not wearing a clown costume." Molly laughed. "Deal. We'll go as caterers. Everyone ignores the caterers." Bill smirked. "Caterers, huh? I hope you're ready to bake some cookies. I'm not touching those creepy little sandwiches." Molly shuddered. "Ugh, those things. We'll order in. Just make sure you bring your best lockpicks. Those presents are probably locked up tighter than Fort Knox." "Trust me, I'm prepared," Bill said, confidence radiating from him. Molly checked her watch. "We've got two days to plan. Let's make this a party to remember." Bill chuckled. "A party for us, maybe. The kids will just be wondering why their parents are suddenly out of diapers and baby wipes." Molly laughed. "Oh, the parents will figure it out. They always do. But by then, we'll be long gone, with a trunk full of loot."