Molly leaned against the deli counter, a sloppy sandwich in her hand, as she briefed Bill on their plan. "Right, so we roll in just an hour after the cake's been served. The parents are all distracted, either trying to placate cranky children or scrubbing grape juice stains off the carpet. We'll make a beeline for the table with the presents, grab the lot, and out we'll go." Bill nodded, his eyes flicking around the crowded deli as he chomped on a pretzel stick. "Easy peasy. What's the haul looking like?" "Santa's going to bring some serious cash, kidwise-wise, and quite a bit of unopened electronics. It's a total tech heist dream come true." A guy jostling past them spat out a hasty apology, bumping Bill's back. "Hey, watch it, buddy." Molly rolled her eyes. "Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the electronics. We'll cherry-pick the most valuable stuff and pawn it off at the flea market. Plenty of suckers out there willing to pay inflated prices for used gadgets." Bill took another bite of his pretzel, wincing at the gritty texture. "Mmm, yeah, flea market biding. You've got a wicked grin going on there, partner." Molly shot him a look. "Don't get sidetracked. We gotta stay focused on the plan. Timing's crucial here – we can't stick around long or word'll get out." The deli owner yelled out, exasperated, to the busy staff. "Next batch of free chicken wings goes out in five... four... three... one..." In the sudden din, a distracted woman smacked into the couple, nearly spilling their drinks. Apologetic, she whipped open her pocketbook, only to realize it was a crumpled school notice listing the party's entertainment schedule. "Ah, shoot," muttering, she shoved it back into her purse. Bill's eyes locked on it for a moment before a more pertinent point returned his interest. "What about security? Did I hear they've got those super-speedy bouncers?" Molly made a snide smile, licking a fragment of pickled relish off her lip. "Bouncers? At a kids' party? Bill, Bill, Bill. It's little league wrestling matches out there. Even if they do happen to have someone hired for an hour or so, those bouncers are still getting paid by parents wanting a slightly-restored sense of dignity. We'll be outta there in time – cake-takes-all priority takes precedence." Bill coughed, spewing out a faint fragment of pretzel. "Kids, gotta love 'em. Alright, let's line up those laptops and handhelds. I'm not exactly made of money, you know." Molly winked. "No worries, partner. Santa's bringing it all the gift of money, isn't he?"