Molly sipped her lukewarm coffee, eyes fixed on the yellowed blueprint spread out on the kitchen table. Bill flipped through a sheaf of glossy pamphlets, his expression a mixture of excitement and consternation. "How do they do it, Molly? I mean, really do it? These kids' party planners, I mean. They're like the ninjas of sugary amusement." Molly snorted. "Ninjas would've gotten in and out without leaving a trail of crumbs and broken dreams. These guys are like... um, moderately competent jugglers." Bill nodded wistfully. "That's true. We're going in at peak chaos, of course. During the piñata-breaking, when everyone's distracted by fluffy bunnies and shattered glass." "I love it," Molly said, scribbling notes on the blueprint. "But what about security? We can't just waltz in through the front door, leaving a signed manifesto and a bouquet of flowers for the host." "Oh, come on, Molly. It's not like we're dealing with the world's greatest detective here. The most significant obstacle is going to be Mrs. Johnson's prize-winning chocolate cake. I mean, have you seen the photos? That thing's got more icing than a dental school's annual gala." Molly shook her head, typing notes onto her phone. "I've got the alarm system on repeat. We go in at 2 PM, when the party's supposed to be over. Everyone's going to be too busy cleaning up after themselves to notice us sneaking in." She paused, considering the logistics. "Plus, the piñata will have been deflated by then, so we won't have to worry about any potentially embarrassing decorations." "You know, Molly, sometimes I think we make this look too easy," Bill said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Hey, we are professionals," Molly retorted. "At least, we are until the police arrive, at which point we rapidly descend into bumbling incompetence." Bill chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "Fair point. But let's focus. What's the plan, exactly? Are we grabbing the good stuff from under the tree or is it more like... a sprawling feast of presents?" Molly grinned mischievously. "We're going for maximum plunder. I mean, we can't just take the presents. That's like picking the low-hanging fruit. No, we're talking the birthday cake, the photobooth props, the entire first-aid kit. We're leaving nothing but a faint scent of disinfectant and an eerie sense of absence." Bill whistled softly, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "That's just me thinking, Molly, but I think we might just pull this off." Molly raised an eyebrow, checking her watch for what felt like the hundredth time. "We'd better. Because if we get caught... I don't think I can handle being part of a Children's Birthday Party Heist photo, next to all those expectant, sugared-up faces." "Fair point," Bill said, snatching the blueprints from the table and shoving them into his pocket. "You know, for the record, I think this might be the most ridiculous heist we've ever planned." Molly's face lit up with a wry smile. "That's what makes it so great. Come on, Bill. Let's go loot some sugared-up joy."