Molly and Bill huddled in the unmarked van, parked a block away from the birthday bash. They were dressed in their best "concerned parents" attire, complete with forced smiles and awkwardly styled hairdos. "Alright, let's review the plan," Molly said, studying the blueprint of the party venue on her phone. "We go in, blend in with the other parents, and wait for the kids to start doing the pinata thing." "They're going to do a pinata?" Bill repeated, his eyes wide with excitement. "That's the best thing I've heard all week. I love a good pinata." Molly shot him a withering look. "Focus, Bill. We're here to steal presents, not indulge in nostalgic revelry." Bill held up his hands in mock defense. "I'm focused, I swear. Presents, got it. What's the estimated haul?" Molly consulted her notes. "We're looking at around two hundred kids, each with an average of three to five gifts apiece. If we can get in and out within the hour, I estimate we can clear at least five grand worth of toys and swag." Bill whistled. "Not bad for an afternoon's work. But have you thought about the risks? I mean, we're talking about a room full of sugared-up children and over-caffeinated parents. It's like walking into a hostage situation." Molly shrugged. "We've handled crazier crowds. Remember the time we hit that Black Friday sale at Best Buy?" Bill shuddered. "How can I forget? The horror, the humanity...the discounts." Molly grinned. "Exactly. We're seasoned pros. We can handle a few screaming kids and some frazzled parents. Besides, we have our trusty disguises." Bill adjusted his wig and fake mustache. "Yeah, because nothing says ' normal suburban parent' like a poorly applied toupee and a handlebar mustache." Molly chuckled. "Hey, you look like a normal-ish person to me. Now let's get ready to put on a show." As they prepared to exit the van, Bill turned to Molly with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I've got a great idea for a diversion. While you're snagging the presents, I can –" Molly held up a hand. "Don't. I don't want to know what kind of insane plan you've cooked up. Just stick to the script, okay?" Bill pouted. "Fine, but I assure you, my plan would have involved a impressive display of breakdancing and at least three small pyrotechnic devices." Molly rolled her eyes. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."