Molly and Bill, a dynamic duo in the art of thievery, huddled in their makeshift hideout, a battered van with a view of the bustling city park. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow on the scene, and as the children's laughter filled the air, their plan began to unravel. "So, we've got the location: the park's central pavilion," Molly whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "The kid's birthday bash will be in full swing, and the presents, oh, the glorious presents, will be just lying there, waiting for us." "Easy peasy, right?" Bill grinned, his dimples deepening. "We slip in during the chaos, grab the goodies, and vanish into the night." His confidence filled the van, mingling with the scent of Bill's cheap cologne that was slightly overpowering in the cramped space. "But what about the clown?" Molly asked, her brow furrowing. "The invite mentioned a famous clown as the main attraction. Won't that red-nosed buffoon notice two grown folks sneaking around?" "Ah, my dear Watson, er, Molly! We'll use that clown as a distraction. When the little ones are in fits of giggles, we make our move. A children's party is a perfect camouflage for our little operation. Who would suspect us amidst all that sugar-induced frenzy?" The two high-fived, their palms smacking together in a silent promise of the adventure and riches that lay ahead. Little did they know, stealing from kids was about to teach them a lesson in karma.