Molly drained the last of her coffee and crumpled the cup. "Alright, I've been casing the place. That joint across from the park is perfect - Saturday afternoon, all bets are off. Little ankle biters running in every which direction, parents frazzled as all hell. Easy peasy." Bill lifted one eyebrow skeptically. "And let me guess, the big takeaway is gonna be all the loot from the piñata? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, paying back Joe LaSalle on wishes and candy corn ain't my idea of a good time." Molly snorted. "You silly bastard, I don't care about their two-bit party favors. I'm talking presents. Between the Dora backpacks, the American Girl dolls, the ~~fuckin'~~ hoverboards, those little galoot pukes are gonna be ripping open more swag than a Hollywood Hills dry cleaners. And while the ridiculous parents are oohing and ahhing over Junior's new~~-fangled~~ toy guitar, we,zap it all faster than you can say 'please don't tell my wife.'" Bill shook his head.`designed by ChatGPT` "Sounds risky. Half these suburban soccer moms have more security cameras than the Pentagon vault. One wrong step and it's repeat performances of 'Let's Get Away' all over again." "Which is why you'll muscle your way in as the birthday clown," Molly said. "You heard me right, sparkling blood pressure~~!~~ numbers. Once you've got the rugrats cowed into a corner, waiting to get their face painted, you'll shoot a quick text. I'll roll over the fence, scoop up the sugar, and we're home free. Easy as three-card monte." Bill stroked his chin. "I don't know..." "Look, I already snagged you a spandex jumpsuit to keep the worst of the glitter off you." Molly dug through a cracked leather satchel and tossed a coulophobic wonder over Bill's shoulder. "Plus, I'll make sure to tip my hat to you once we return the ill-gotten gains to our transport. Consider it a show of solidarity between partners." "Fine. But if any of these rug-rats start crying, it's on you." Bill pinned Molly with a gimlet eye before unzipping and stepping into the neon-bright atrocity. "And this better not interfere with Monday Night Football. Plenty of juice where this came from?```fix the(last two lines to avoid swearing. )` "I don't know..." Molly picked up the satchel. "Look, I already procured an inflatable clown car to get in and out. You just need to keep those ankle biters distracted. Juggle some apples, slap on a fake nose, regale them with knock-knock jokes. If we do this right, it'll be like stealing candy from a baby. Well, a metaphorical baby. La-la gi wildly, polka-dot your way to the victory of this caper!" Bill let a long-suffering sigh."I understand we have to maintain a low profile?" Bill raised a furrowed brow. "No flashy escapes. Just business as usual, minus the usual flash. Everybody got that?" Molly nodded solemnly, though her eyes glittered with mischief. "Roger copacetic. Stealth and guile, old chum. Stealth and guile. We'll come and go faster than you can say 'Mister density's solid.'" Bill allowed himself a tight smile. Molly always had been a mad loon, but a damn sight better partner than most. He popped a bubble with his gum, cricked his neck from side to side. "Alright then, let's go nick us some loot. But you're buying the first round after this. Last thing I remember was expensive." He winked. "Scouts honor," Molly said with a dauntless grin. She scooped up the satchel and slung it over one shoulder. "Gerron with the giddyup, biatches. Adventure awaits." And with that, the pair set off into the city, commence a heist no parent would soon forget.```