The dimly lit conference room was a far cry from the bright, bursting atmosphere they were about to infiltrate. Molly and Bill huddled around a makeshift table, littered with scribbled notes and stolen party plans. "I'm telling you, Bill, the key is getting in undetected," Molly said, chewing on a pen. "These partygoers are more nervous than a diabetic at a candy buffet." Bill snorted. "You're killing it with the metaphors tonight, Molly. But sure, stealthy entry. Got it. Just don't trip on the jump castle and trigger the alarm." Molly playfully rolled her eyes. "Hey, this is your area of expertise. What's the grand plan?" "Not to get caught, obviously." Bill flipped through their research. "Our contact within the parentocracy says the cake-cutting ceremony is the perfect blind spot. We sneak in then, grab as many gifts as we can carry, and make a swift exit." Molly pored over the blueprints. "I see a problem. The kids are too loud. We'll never get near the presents." Bill glanced up, unobthered. "Kid's parties are all about overwhelming senses. Just blend in. Wear some eye-catching wigs and overalls. They'll think we're the birthday kid's weird aunt and uncle." Molly's eyes widened as a wicked grin spread. "You're a genius, Bill. A weird aunt and uncle with tiny mustaches and an affection for balloons." Bill deadpanned, "Totes the kind of intimidation factor I was going for." Their discussion turned to tactical maneuvers, with a foray into who would handle the cotton candy machine – "A trap, Molly. We must avoid the sticky traps" – and what gift-wrapped items to prioritize for personal scores. Molly ran her hands through her recently bleached hair. "Okay, what's the priority on electronics this time? More Power Rangers stuff?" Bill shrugged, his eyes scanning the intricate schematics. "I'd say equal splits on games and non-electronics, then grab a few showiest items for ourselves. Want to send a message, let the world know we're not just party crashers." "Always looking for ways to terrorize the system, Bill. It suits you," Molly quipped, scribbling a reminder on the table. "Pencil: Bring cake for leverage." With a cackle, Bill set his gaze firmly on the notes. "This is what they mean by 'underestimated minds.' We should trademark this." Molly let out a low whistle. "This is gonna be a clean heist. Maybe the best one yet." And with the whispered "Let's go make some memories" Bill carefully set aside their scattered papers and smiled, ever eager for more illicit work with Molly as his partner.