Molly and Bill sat hunched over a rickety table in the dive bar, nursing their drinks as they plotted their next heist. The seedy joint was filled with the usual assortment of degenerates and lowlifes, providing the perfect cover for their illicit planning session. "So, let me get this straight," Molly said, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You want us to rob a children's birthday party?" "Yup," Bill replied, popping the 'p' with a mischievous grin. "Think about it - a bunch of rich kids, too busy playing pin the tail on the donkey to notice their parents' flashy gifts are disappearing." Molly took a swig of her whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down her throat. "I don't know, Bill. Stealing from kids? That's a new low, even for us." "Hey, I never said we were in the business of moral high ground," Bill quipped, flashing a roguish smirk. "Besides, those little brats won't even miss the presents. They'll be too busy stuffing their faces with cake and ice cream." Molly couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image. "Alright, I'm in. But we gotta be smart about this. No room for error." "Oh, come on," Bill scoffed. "It's a kid's party, not Fort Knox. We'll be in and out before they can even spell 'cat.'" "Still, we need a solid plan," Molly insisted. "I'm not going down for a bunch of toy trains and Barbie dolls." Bill leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, here's the deal. I've got a guy on the inside - party clown by the name of Bubbles. He'll create a distraction, something really flashy to keep the kids and parents occupied." "While he's got their attention, we slip in through the back, grab the gifts, and make our escape," Molly finished, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Not bad, Bill. Not bad at all." "The real challenge will be blending in," Bill mused, stroking his chin. "We can't exactly waltz in looking like a couple of thieves." "Leave that to me," Molly said with a wink. "I've got a killer disguise up my sleeve. By the time we're done, even our own mothers wouldn't recognize us." "Perfect," Bill said, raising his glass in a toast. "To the most epic children's party heist in history." Molly clinked her drink against his, the sound of glass against glass echoing through the dimly lit bar. "To making all those spoiled little brats cry on their special day." The pair burst into laughter, drawing curious glances from the other patrons. But Molly and Bill paid them no mind, too caught up in their devious plotting to care about the opinions of the bottom-feeding scum around them. As the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, their plan took shape, each detail more audacious than the last. By the time they stumbled out of the bar, arm in arm and giggling like a pair of mischievous schoolchildren, they were ready to put their grand scheme into action. It was going to be a birthday party to remember - for all the wrong reasons.