Molly and Bill hunched over the kitchen table, surrounded by maps of playgrounds, blueprints of bounce houses, and a steaming pot of espresso. They were the best in the business, and it was time to cash in on the biggest score of their careers: the birthday party of Reginald P. Bottomsworth III, heir to the Bottomsworth fortune and notorious brat. Bill poured over the layout of the venue, a sprawling children's wonderland aptly called "Funtopia." "We'll have to get in through the service entrance. No way we can blend in with the guests." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You think we can't pass for seven-year-olds?" Bill chuckled. "Not without some serious plastic surgery, sweetheart." Molly snorted. "I've worn more convincing mustaches at a rodeo." Bill ignored her and continued, tracing a path through the winding corridors of Funtopia with his finger. "Once we're inside, we grab the presents and make a break for the parking lot." Molly nodded, her eyes widening with excitement. "I love a good smash and grab." Bill's lips curled into a sly grin. "Who needs a crew when you have a partner in crime as talented as you?" Molly's grin matched his. "I'll grab the gifts. You handle crowd control." Bill pulled a small canister from his coat pocket. "I've got just the thing. Happy birthday to Master Bottomsworth, indeed."