"Okay Bill, so here's the plan", said Molly, laying out her blueprint on the makeshift table. Bill eyed her intently from behind his horn-rimmed glasses and sneezed vehemently, rustling the papers. "Fine. Just give me a minute to get this sinuses issue sorted out, okay?" He ashed his cigarette into a low fireplace. "Molly?" In a moment, she returned, dusting off her hands, "What's your evaluation of the intel? We gonna be able to waltz right in and make off with these presents undetected?" "Hah! Easy there Shakespeare Junior, let me finish my monologue first. Look, the party is in about an hour and forty five minutes. We'll sneak in after 9pm when the parents are low on sugar, toss all the presents into those Nugget-sized little sacks you knitted over the weekend, dash out the back door ... Boom! Smooth as silk. No one even notices." "And the alarms deactivator will do the trick?" "Absolutely not! We run the digital ones, and you know that's like giving a Ferrari to a kid. You can't predict those things." She leaned in, her green eyes twinkling, though clearly trying to sell the point. "Besides, we are the architects of mysteries, capers and heists! Have you read our bio?" "I haven't but I ain't unimpressed! Cue the masterful plan." Molly nodded. "Alright, On cue". Molly and Bill stalked the quiet beach road, coyly nestled between trash bins and trees, to get out of view from the driveway to retrieve the remaining tools from their storage unit. The rustling of the bushes nearby baffled Molly. Though Bill dismissed the sound offhand, Molly began to crane her neck, scouting out any signs of life that might cause a hitch. Finally, the rustling stopped, and they peered inside their storage unit. Retrieving their tools, they slinked off into the night as young children's noises and balloons and soundtrack filled the air - the children's party was in full swing.