Molly sat at the kitchen table, pouring over the blueprints of the children's party venue, a gaudy cartoon-themed hall with a ball pit and a bouncy castle. Bill leaned against the counter, crunching into a bag of potato chips. "Okay, so we've got the layout, we've got the guest list, we've got the party schedule," Molly said, tapping her pen on the table. "What's our in?" "I'm thinking the old 'catering crew' routine," Bill said, mouth full of chips. Molly raised an eyebrow. "That's the best you've got?" "What, you don't like it? It's classic." "It's cliché. We can do better than that. What about 'lost children's entertainment'?" Bill snorted. "That's not even a thing." "It's a thing now. We'll just dress up as a balloon-twisting clown and a face-painter, and-" "-and I'm sure the 20-somethings getting paid minimum wage to supervise this shindig will totally not see through our ruse," Bill said, deadpan. Molly shot him a withering look. "You're not exactly overflowing with ideas, are you? We need something solid, Bill. Something that'll get us in, unnoticed, and give us time to get the goods." Bill shrugged, wiping chip crumbs off his shirt. "What goods, exactly? We're not kicking off a heroin trade out of a Juicy Juice box, Molly. We're talking kiddie-party swag. Finger puppets and sticker books." "Don't knock it, Bill. Those things are like gold to the right collector. And besides, it's not just about the loot. It's about the art of the heist. The thrill of the challenge. The satisfaction of outsmarting a room full of rowdy five-year-olds." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You're starting to scare me, Molly. Maybe we should just stick to the money box at the checkout line like normal thieves." Molly snorted. "Normal thieves? Ha! We're artists, Bill. Visionaries. We're the Avengers of pilfering presents." "More like the other guys, the ones with the beaked masks and the Chinese fans," Bill muttered. Molly's eyes narrowed. "You're just jealous because you didn't come up with the plan. But trust me, Bill, this one's gonna be a masterpiece." The silence that followed was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of Bill crunching into another chip. "You know, we really should work on our love-hate dynamic," Molly said, eyes still narrowed. "It's getting a little stale." "Oh, I thought we were doing just fine, considering we're a couple of conscience-free kidnappers-by-proxy about to loot a room full of minors." "Hey, don't knock it till we've got the loot, Bill," Molly said, grinning. Bill shook his head, assisting himself to another handful of chips. "I don't know how you sleep at night, Molly." "I sleep just fine, thanks for asking, Bill. With a sizable collection of PlayStation controllers and an arc of professional-grade glitter." Bill sighed, heading for the door. "Let's get this over with before I have to sacrifice what's left of my dignity."