Molly and Bill sat hunched over a table, studying a crudely drawn map of the party venue. "Okay, so here's the plan," Molly whispered conspiratorially. "You create a distraction by releasing a bunch of greased pigs into the party." Bill raised an eyebrow. "Greased pigs? Where am I supposed to get those?" Molly waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details. Figure it out. While the kids are chasing the pigs, I'll slip in and grab the presents." "Got it," Bill nodded. "But what if someone recognizes me?" "Wear a disguise, obviously," Molly rolled her eyes. "I dunno, maybe a clown suit or something." "A clown suit?" Bill looked horrified. "You know I hate clowns." "Well, it's either that or a princess dress," Molly smirked. Bill gulped. "Fine, I'll take the clown suit." "Excellent," Molly rubbed her hands together gleefully. "This is going to be the heist of the century!" "Just one question," Bill interjected. "What are we going to do with all those stolen presents?" Molly paused, then shrugged. "We'll figure that out later. For now, let's focus on the heist."