"It's the perfect heist, Bill," Molly said, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she tapped the blueprints of the Happy Harbor Playcenter spread across their makeshift table. "Think about it – a place overflowing with presents, packed with distracted parents who are only there for the free buffet, and a security system last updated when the Bush administration was in office." Bill rubbed his chin, considering. "Alright, I see the potential. But we're not talking about some fancy jewelry store here or a museum with priceless artifacts. This is a children's birthday party. You know, the kind with bouncing castles and ball pits?" "And that's exactly why it's genius!" Molly exclaimed, her dyed red hair bobbing as she nodded enthusiastically. "Nobody expects a high-stakes heist at a second grader's birthday bash. Plus, the booty is insane. What kid's party doesn't have hundreds of maybe even thousands of dollars sloshing about in toy form?" "True," Bill mused. "But we'd be stealing from kids. That hardly sits right in my stomach, you know. I may have a conscience as chewy as a jawbreaker, but stealing from little tykes... It's like that creepy uncle no one invites to Thanksgiving anymore." Molly sighed dramatically. "Yeah, that's indicative of how close to making a break-through we are. You start imagining how it technically sounds to an outside party. We should all be in jail, Bill. Both of us. Do you not remember why we left the life and got legitimate jobs? But we didn't. So now here we are, without convictions, or cells, or a Get Out of Jail Free card. What I'm saying is, do we really care about moral quandaries?" "Not really. No." "Well," Molly rubbed her hands together. "This place will be a bit tighter than we're used to—it's a kids' party, after all, and not just any kids' party", and this is what sells the whole thing for me. A million to one odds we're trying to rob a Neo-Nazis reunion. You know the whole gang you hired, yeah?" "Yeah, I remember—basically the top gang in town." She pursed her lips and nodded. "Right, we're on a pedestal now. Our tap on that newly-wed couple's bank accounts was genius. After that, we're on top of the food chain. So National Socialist groups just steer clear of us now. Or divisions within the Black Lives Matter call it quits." "So what am I to do exactly?" "Easy, I panic at the last minute, and you rob the party. But Bill, the VOP is—there's a catch and I need you to handle the );aw enforcement if anything goes down. Now not to be flimsy but Russel Krown wants the entire payload. So we handle that." "Russel Krown? And National Socialist or is Commie? We robbing our own people now, Molly? Or what?" "That aside, I had that conversation. He just never told us." "The unimaginable balls on you. I can't believe this!" Bill furrowed his brows. "Molly, it's only for once. And we're getting pulpous amounts to make off that, inclusive, oflong with catalyzing ours." She grinned a bit. "Relax, I won't come to use in the moment Sam Champagne marijuana went and ceased phone calls." "What does that even mean?" Bill threw his hands up, exasperated. "I don't know! I don't even know what to say anymore, I'm exhausting all my energy into me being straight. It's to go around in circles with this now." "I mean, yeah alright; bad vibe tunnel refresh. And I ain't know what to feel. Optional to choose Molly. But he can't make up his mind. I actually had that earlier." "Forget about him, Bill, this is the heist of all heists." "I understand you, yeap." "Block parties are the epitome of parties, and we'd be feline like two nocturnal jungle cat owls pulling this one off." "I didn't know I should have hit enter."