Molly leaned back in her creaky armchair, her eyes fixated on the blueprints spread out on the coffee table. She tapped her finger against the plan, her mind racing with possibilities. Bill, lounging on the couch, held a half-empty beer bottle in one hand and a pen in the other. "Alright, Bill, let’s run through this one last time. We need to make sure we don’t miss a single detail," Molly said, her voice steady and businesslike. Bill sighed and took a swig of his beer. "Mol, we’ve been over this a hundred times. We’re breaking into a kids’ party, not Fort Knox." Molly shot him a stern look. "This isn’t just any kids’ party, Bill. This is the annual Johnson’s Bash. They’ve got a warehouse of presents. We hit this right, and we’re set for the month." "Got it, Mol. So, we’re in at seven, right? When the parents are distracted with their own little party?" Bill asked, circling the time on the blueprint with his pen. "Exactly. We’ll use the treehouse as our entry point. It’s the perfect cover. The kids will be running around, and no one will notice us climbing in," Molly explained, her finger tracing the path from the treehouse to the gift room. "Treehouse, check. What about the alarms? Have we figured out how to disable them yet?" Bill asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Leave that to me. I’ve been working on a little gadget that should do the trick. It’s a bit of a prototype, but it’s our best shot," Molly replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "Alright, but if it goes up in smoke, I’m blaming you," Bill said with a grin, earning a playful nudge from Molly. "Ha, ha. Very funny. So, once we’re in, you take the north side, I’ll take the south. We need to be quick and efficient. No fooling around with the toys, got it?" Molly said, her tone serious. "Would I ever?" Bill feigned hurt, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "I’ll behave, I promise. What’s our exit strategy?" "We regroup at the treehouse. I’ll have a rope ladder ready, and we’ll drop the presents into the van parked around the corner. It’s a quick getaway," Molly explained, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table. "Sounds solid. But what if someone catches us red-handed?" Bill asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. Molly smirked. "Then you distract them. I’ll handle the heavy lifting. Trust me, I’ve got this." "Trust you? I’ve been out of the game for a while, Mol. I need a refresher. What’s your plan B?" Bill probed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Plan B is to blend in. We’ll dress as clowns. No one will suspect a thing. We can pass the presents off as part of the show," Molly said, her grin widening. Bill burst out laughing. "Clowns? Are you serious? I’m not putting on a clown suit, Mol." "Hey, it’s either that or explaining to the cops why you’re breaking into a kids’ party. Choose wisely," Molly retorted, raising an eyebrow. Bill sighed, but a mischievous smile played on his lips. "Fine. Clowns it is. But you owe me a new outfit after this." "Deal. Now, let’s go over the final details one more time. We can’t afford any hiccups," Molly said, her focus unwavering. "Alright, Molly. Lead the way. Let’s make this party one to remember," Bill said, clinking his beer bottle against hers in a toast. "To a successful heist," Molly replied, her eyes gleaming with determination. "And to the best clowns in the business."