Molly tapped her nose, eyes darting left to right. "Alright Bill, here's the plan. Tonight's the annual Junior League birthday bash at the Herbisons' mansion. Loads of snot-nosed brats, parental units, and tons of unguarded presents." Bill adjusted his monocle, stroking his pencil-thin mustache. "Marvelous, a veritable smorgasbord of untapped riches! How do you propose we infiltrate this soiree, my cunning accomplice?" Molly grinned wickedly, a glint in her green eyes. "Classic misdirection, my friend. We dress as clowns and juggle our way in, ample room in those slinky costumes to hide our ill-gotten gains. Once we've relieved the kiddies of their shiniest toys, we'll disappear faster than tears at a happy ending." Bill let out an explosive guffaw. "Absolutely magnificent, Molly! Between your deft fingers and my silver tongue, those undeserving sprogs won't know what hit 'em. The Heist of the Decade, mark my words!" He saluted her with an exaggerated bow. "M'Lady, shall we gather our ... armaments and set our plan in motion?" With a wink, Molly turned on her heel. "Let's tango, Bill boy. And once we've filled our sack, maybe we can unload some cargo in the servants' quarters, if you catch my drift." She tossed him a saucy look over her shoulder as they vanished into the shadows, leaving only the faintest sound of raucous laughter in their wake.