Molly adjusted her trusty lock pick set while peering over at Bill, who was examining the party invitations with a magnifying glass. "Bill, we're going to need more than your eyes for this one," she chuckled, tinkering with a tension wrench. Bill scowled, pushing his glasses up. "Have you got a lockpickin' degree, Moll? These little tykes will have parents quick as a wink." Molly grinned, a sly glint in her eye. "Patience is key, my friend. And in this case, my patience trips over pure sarcasm." Bill rolled his eyes, "Alright, Captain Morale. Let's talk sheep in clothing. Operation Party Pawreeve: gamma!" "You call that a protocol?" Molly tossed a lockpick into the air. "First Rule of Heist Harmony: Any plan starts with distraction." "Magic bears, remember?" Bill nodded, tapping his fingers on a crumpled balloon ad. "Exactly. The camping section," Molly confirmed, her fingers dancing over the keys. Bill leaned back, thumping his chest. "No one expects sugar-spun raccoons. I'll be the masked Bandit Bear." Molly laughed, "A preface of epic proportions, indeed. And I the unassuming Mouse, scouting for fuses that light up on charm." "Our approach is metaphorical, do we not?" Bill teased. "Perfectly literal," Molly asserted. "Alright, timing—wednesday at noon. Guests will think the party's all on a trail of sugar. I'll disguise myself as a balloony DJ to avoid suspicion." Bill puffed his chest. "And I'll slip in as the entertainer—breaking the ice with a story about the dinosaurs not wanting to play fetch." "Good stuff, Dynamite." Molly checked her watch. "Our cousin George will bring his dog over—sensitive things like fuses can cause a tussle." Bill grinned, "Couldn't ask for a better perp's pet." The pair exchanged a conspiratorial glance. "Molly, your disguise, enhance with polka dots. Let's make an impression—or at least a confound me. I'm dressing as a prehistoric poodle." "And I'll be a big, fluffy... old-school cellphone," Molly shrugged off a neon vest. "Blending in isn't just in style, Bill, it's art." Bill nodded along, eyes gleaming. "Bring on the raptors, I'll harmonize with the squeak and crack." "May the highlight-worthy gems be on our side. Let's outsmart these guiltless giggles and wrap our hands around the joy plush toys." Bob snickered at the sheer audacity. "For Stuff. We are the villains in a child's daydream." Molly tossed Molly a wink, "And soon, they will!" As they mouthed the plan, a silent agreement took root, and the stage was set for the ultimate plush heist—where toys and parades would partake in a dance of larceny and laughter. END.