Molly crouched behind a dumpster in the dimly lit alley, eyes fixed on the colorful banner that screamed "Happy Birthday Timmy!" above the entrance to the party. Bill adjusted his fedora, surveying the area with a practiced air of nonchalance. "The kids are arriving," Molly said, squinting at a watch on her wrist. "We've got a 30-minute window before the adults get there to get the party started." Bill nodded, his eyes never leaving the prize. "I've got the inside track on the present pile. It's a behemoth of a gift tower. We'll need to move fast." Molly snorted. "You think a few stuffed animals and a Nerf gun are going to slow us down? I've got this, Bill. I've done the calculations. We'll have our hands on every single present in under five minutes." Bill grinned, a sly glint in his eye. "You're going to get us killed with your math, Molly. But I suppose it's worth the risk. After all, who wouldn't want to make off with a haul of questionable toys and stale cake?" Molly gave him a look that was equal parts exasperation and affection. "You're going to love this, Bill. I just know it."