Molly sipped her coffee, blowing steam off the top of the cup as she gazed out the window of the rented apartment's kitchen. Across the street, the big red and blue inflatable slide in the backyard was deflating like a sad balloon, its cartoon minions slumped over the grass. The party was over. "We did it, Bill," she said, turning to her partner, who was sprawled out on the couch behind her, his feet dangling over the armrest. "We found the perfect mark." Bill rubbed his eyes, his scruff of a beard making him look like a raccoon. "Remind me again why we're stealing presents from a kid's birthday party." "Because, Bill, the presents at a kid's birthday party are like the Holy Grail of heists. They're small, portable, and most importantly, they're worth a small fortune to the right collectors." Bill snorted. "Collectors? You mean crazy parents who are willing to shell out big bucks for some rare action figure or doll?" Molly pulled out a folder full of notes and photos. "That's exactly what I mean. These aren't just any kids at this party, Bill. These are the kids of wealthy business owners and socialites. We're talking high-end toys, designer clothes, and electronics that haven't even hit the market yet." Bill whistled. "And you know this how?" "Because I've got class, Bill. And an Instagram account. I've been following these mommy bloggers for weeks, tracking their every move. I know the birthday boy's name is Timmy, he's turning six, and he's obsessed with trains. I know what time the party starts, what kind of food they're serving, and what games they're going to play." Bill tossed his baseball cap onto the coffee table. "And how do you plan on getting us into this shindig?" "That's the best part." Molly pulled out a flyer. "I've arranged for us to arrive as the entertainment. Meet Mr. and Mrs. Jingle, the dynamic duo of children's birthday fun." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You're going to make me wear a clown suit." "It's not a clown suit, Bill. It's a festive holiday sweater and a red nose. You'll be fine." Bill groaned, burying his face in the couch cushions. "I'm going to have to wear a red nose." "Trust me, Bill. I've got everything