Molly adjusted her leather gloves, her eyes scanning the venue below. "This is the place, Bill. The Emerald City Community Center. They're having a mad scientist-themed party for Timmy's fifth birthday. I'm told the birthday boy's a big boy, loves getting gift cards." Bill snorted, unwrapping a granola bar from his pocket. "If he's that rich, I'm sure we'll be set for life." "I think it's more about the volume of gifts," Molly said, a sly grin spreading across her face. "These things are like feeding troughs for bored housewives and overindulgent pinks. We're looking at row upon row of neatly wrapped presents, just screaming to be liberated." "A noble cause, indeed," Bill said, licking the wrapper from his bar. "We just have to get past the security guard, navigate to the party area, and pluck the gifts without getting too caught in the sauce, if you know what I mean." "The trick, Bill, is blending in," Molly replied. "These parties are always zoo-carnivals. We just dress up as parents, blend in with the chaos, and... voila. The treasure's all ours." Bill chuckled, furtively glancing around. "I like your thinking, Molly. What's the plan for, say, the clown that shows up at these things?" "Leave him to me," Molly said with a smile, a wicked sparkle in her eye. "I have a special plan, courtesy of the extensive research I did on 'Party Entertainers: A Class of Their Own'." Bill cleared his throat, incredulous. "You're kidding me. You're researching clowns for fun?" "It's all about the mindset, Bill," Molly replied. "We're talking slippery-slope chaos; honking horns, itchy outfits, squirt guns. Clowns are our ace in the hole, in this case." Bill laughed. "Yeah, and I'm sure the clown will have some handy distractions for us, what with the oversized shoes and inflated egos." "Well-played, Bill," Molly replied, patting him on the back. "Let's review the basic framework of our plan. We go in as party-givers, 'lend a hand' with activities, like cookie decorating or face-painting." "Moon rocks with an actual craft session," Bill muttered. "Sounds like my Aunt Mildred's worst nightmare." "Exactly my point," Molly quickly said. "As things get 'craft-astic,' I create a diversion near the punch bowl while you make the switch. Smooth getaway, cake... done." "Until the inescapable 'Who Done It' conversation at the police station, that is," Bill chimed in, laughing. "Minor details, Bill," Molly replied with a chuckle. "Come on, time to suit up. Emerald City's finest toys – and trashy party favors – await."