"So, let me get this straight," Molly said, leaning over the blueprints of the party venue, "we're going to crash a six-year-old's birthday party to steal all the gifts?" Bill nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's right, Mol. Nobody will suspect a couple of party crashers in fancy dress." Molly raised an eyebrow, looking over the notes Bill had compiled. "And you're sure the payoff is worth the potential tantrums?" "Oh, it's not just any party," Bill explained. "It's the mayor's kid. Those parents always go overboard on the gift-giving front." Molly chuckled. "That's true. Remember when they bought their daughter a pony for Christmas?" "Exactly," Bill exclaimed. "So imagine what those rich folks are giving as birthday presents!" Molly pondered for a moment, tracing her finger along the outline of the party venue. "Okay, I'm in. What's our disguise?" Bill's face broke into a wide grin. "Clowns." "What?!" Molly exclaimed, looking at Bill incredulously. "Hey, nobody's scared of a couple of goofy clowns at a kids' party. Plus, the costumes will cover our faces," Bill reasoned. Molly sighed. "Fine, but I'm not doing the red nose." The day of the heist arrived, and Molly and Bill donned their clown disguises, complete with oversized shoes and rainbow wigs. They sauntered into the party venue, juggling and goofing around to blend in. As planned, nobody paid them any mind. As they made their way toward the towering pile of perfectly wrapped gifts, Bill whispered, "Remember, act casual. Clowns always look casual." Molly rolled her eyes behind her face paint. "Yeah, Bill. I know. Clowns are the epitome of casual." After making balloon animals and honking their noses for a few minutes, Molly and Bill sidled up to the gift table. Molly scanned the area, ensuring nobody was paying too much attention to the clowns who were about to pull off a major heist. "Alright, Bill. Let's grab the loot and go," Molly muttered under her breath. "Roger that," Bill said, and the duo swiftly began stuffing the gifts into their oversized clown pants. As they turned to leave, a small voice called out, "Hey! Where are you going with those presents?" Molly and Bill froze, exchanging worried glances. They slowly turned to face a freckle-faced boy staring up at them with suspicion in his eyes. "Oh, uh, we're just taking these to, um..." Molly stammered, her mind racing to come up with a believable excuse. Bill jumped in, "Yeah, we're taking them to, uh, Santa Claus! He's outside, and he needs to, um, inspect the gifts before the birthday girl opens them." The boy's face scrunched up in confusion. "Santa Claus? But it's July." Molly and Bill shared a panicked glance, realizing their cover was about to be blown. They prepared to drop the gifts and run, when suddenly, a voice boomed over the loudspeaker. "Attention, everyone! The cake is being served!" The boy's eyes widened. "Cake! Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Clown!" And with that, he dashed off toward the promise of sugar and frosting. Molly and Bill breathed a sigh of relief and waddled as quickly as their oversized shoes would allow toward the exit, their pants stuffed with stolen gifts, ready to make their grand escape. "Maybe next time, let's stick to banks," Molly grumbled as they squeezed through the door, gifts clinking together in their pants. Bill laughed. "What's the fun in that?"