Molly wiped her brow, the humid air thick with the scent of popcorn and childhood laughter. Bill adjusted his bowler hat, eyeing the entrance to the community center. "This is a bad idea," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. Molly flashed him a grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You always say that, Bill. Besides, think of the payoff." Bill sighed, his shoulders slumping. "We're talking about a dozen plastic toys and some stuffed animals." Molly patted his arm, her hand warm and reassuring. "Precisely. Collectors' items, Billy-boy. Each worth a fortune on the black market." Bill groaned, "You've been watching too many movies." She shrugged, her smile never faltering. "Just keeping things interesting, that's all." The throng of parents and kids made their perimeter almost impenetrable. "How do you suggest we get in without being noticed?" Molly pointed to a gaggle of clowns, their faces painted like jesters. "We blend." Bill raised an eyebrow. "In these suits? We'll look like misplaced penguins." Molly winked. "Exactly. Penguins with a plan."