"Bill, you're an idiot," Molly hissed under her breath. "Stealing presents from a children's party? What are we, ten?" Bill shrugged, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts. "Hey, I thought it was a good plan! Those parents always go overboard, buying all the latest and greatest toys. We could score some serious loot." Molly shook her head, her ponytail swishing behind her. "No way, José. That's just cruel. Stealing from kids on their birthday? I can't lower myself to your level." "Well, what's your brilliant scheme then, Ms. High-and-Mighty?" Bill asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We can't exactly rob a bank, not with our track record." Molly paced back and forth, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. "I don't know, but there has to be something better than hitting up a kiddie bash. Maybe we could scope out that new flea market on the outskirts of town. I heard they have some rare collectibles." Bill nodded, considering her suggestion. "Hmm, not a bad idea. But how do we know the goods will be legit? Half the junk at those places is knock-off crap." "Hey, even knock-off crap has some value," Molly retorted. "And at least it's not as low as stealing Barbie dolls from little girls." "I resent that," Bill said, his face puckered in mock offense. "Little boys like dolls too, you know. It's important to foster their nurturing side early on." Molly rolled her eyes so hard they nearly fell out. "Oh please, you'd be lucky if any kid wanted to play with the busted toys you'd probably end up stealing." Bill smirked, undeterred by her jabs. "You know you love my dashing wit and charm." "Keep telling yourself that, buddy." The pair fell into a heated debate, tossing out pros and cons for various heist ideas. Flea markets, antique fairs, even a local church rummage sale. But amidst the sarcastic quips and boisterous arguments, a deeper current of loyalty and trust flowed between them. For in the end, Molly and Bill had each other's backs, no matter how harebrained their schemes may be.