"Molly, darling, why children's parties?" Bill raised a skeptical eyebrow as he adjusted his tie, the faint glint of a safe cracker hidden beneath the fabric. Molly, her face alight with mischief, perched on the edge of the cluttered desk. "Bill, my dear, think about it. They're the easiest to penetrate. Full of unassuming parents, distracted by their bratty offspring, and overflowing with shiny, tempting presents. Ideal, wouldn't you say?" Bill sighed, the weight of his profession pressing down on his shoulders. "But kids' parties? It's just... wrong, Molly." "And stealing isn't?" Molly's laughter tinkled like glass breaking. "It's business, Bill. Besides," she winked conspiringly, "think of the look on their faces when they realize their precious gifts are gone. Priceless! We'll be legends!" Bill pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "I knew this was a bad idea. But alright, give me the details. How are we getting in?" Molly leaned in, a glint in her eye. "Disguises. We go as the hired entertainers. Clowns, if you will. The children will adore us, the parents will barely notice us, and the presents... will be ours."