Molly and Bill sat cross-legged on the floor of their cramped apartment, poring over a crudely hand-drawn map of the Hills' estate. The afternoon sun streamed through the grimy window, casting an uninviting glow on the stealing duo. "You've got it all figured out, Bill?" Molly asked, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight as she leaned in closer to examine the crude map. Bill nodded, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses. "We get there at 3 pm. The party starts at 3:30. By the time the first kid shows up, we'll be inside, hidden, and ready to strike." "What about security?" Molly inquired, her blue eyes narrowed. "Oh, this is the beauty of it, Molly," Bill grinned, his roguish smile widening. "They pay for this fancy schmancy system, but they're too cheap to arm the kid's party. No cameras inside the ballroom or the playhouse where they keep the presents." "Brilliant." Molly clapped her hands together. "One hundred per cent foolproof. But how do we get out with this loot?" "We'll be dressed as clowns," Bill said, pulling out two garish costumes from a duffel bag. Molly's eyes widened. "Bill, you can't be serious!" "Very serious," he insisted, holding the costume to himself. "See? I'm a perfect fit for 'Trixie the Clown'." Molly just shook her head. "Well, 'Petey' I suppose it is then." "We blend in, snatch the presents, and walk out when the actual entertainment shows up. Easy money, easy shares, no one hurt." "And the kid whose party we're crashing?" "Oh, well, as far as these nihilistic billionaires are preocupated, losing presents is a rite of passage. Their kid won't even notice." Molly tsked. "They sound like a joy to raise a child with." "What, the Hills? Not according to their nannies," Bill said, checking off his list. "I figure we can clear out 50 grand in presents, and they won't miss a single cent." Molly grinned. "Fifty grand and a moral victory for the working class." "Molly, sometimes you are joyously over dramatic." "Comes with planning heists against for-profit orphanages and bank holidays. Someone's gotta keep things interesting." "I'm still wrapping up some details on the intercom. Gate guards aren't a problem once I crack the codes." "Ah, you're applying. There's a good Bill." "I'm thinking of an outward broadcast system though. To alert the other party-goers once we hit the presents?" "Right. So they know to stay in the game room, eating their ranch dip while we take care of the matter at hand," Molly chuckled. "You've got a good instinct for high-stakes comedy, Molly." "You wouldn't have me for a partner otherwise." They leaned back, admiring their crude map. "So, then, Molly. You got your useless clown horn?" "Yeah." "And your oversized pants?" "Yep." "Sound effects ready?" "Of course}" "One hour of practice in the bathroom mirror?" "Done. Ready to shrivel up the souls of the upper class?" "Smiling all the way home." They high-fived once more.