"Are you serious, Molly? A kid's birthday party?" Bill asked, scrunching up his face as he leaned against the rusted hood of their getaway van. "Dead serious," Molly said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "It's the perfect cover. No one will suspect a couple of thieves in the midst of a bunch of screaming kids." Bill let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "You've got to be kidding. What next, a church bake sale?" "Oh, don't tempt me, Bill," Molly replied with a smirk. "Those biddies bake some pretty expensive desserts. But let's stay focused. This party's at the mayor's house, and you know what that means." Bill cocked an eyebrow. "Overpriced gifts from people trying to score points with the local bigwig?" Molly snapped her fingers, grinning. "Bingo! We swoop in, grab the goods, and slip out while everyone's busy arguing over who gets the last slice of pizza." Bill ran a hand through his greasy hair, sighing. "You know I'm not a fan of working in chaos, Mol. What if some snot-nosed brat spots us?" "They won't," Molly said confidently, crossing her arms. "We'll blend right in. I've got us matching 'parent' outfits that scream 'I only shop at discount stores.' No one will look twice at us." "Oh, great," Bill muttered. "Can't wait to see what fashion nightmare you've cooked up this time." Molly tossed him a frilly apron. "Just put it on, Bill. And remember, when we get there, we're Mr. and Mrs. Finklebottom, doting parents to little Timmy." Bill stared at the apron before begrudgingly tying it around his waist. "You do realize I'm never going to live this down if word gets out, right?" Molly patted his shoulder sympathetically. "There, there, Mr. Finklebottom. Just think of all the expensive presents waiting for us." "Fine," Bill grumbled, adjusting the apron. "But you owe me after this one, Molly." "Sure thing, Bill," she replied, grinning. "Now, let's go make Timmy proud." The unlikely pair made their way toward the mayor's mansion, blending seamlessly into the crowd of harried parents and hyperactive children. They soon found themselves in the middle of a brightly decorated backyard, complete with a bouncy castle and a cake the size of a small car. "Alright," Molly whispered, surveying the scene. "I'll create a distraction while you sneak into the house and grab the gifts." Bill rolled his eyes. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Mol?" Molly flashed a wicked grin. "Oh, you'll see. Just follow my lead, Mr. Finklebottom." With a wink, Molly made her way over to the dessert table and "accidentally" knocked over the massive cake, sending frosting and sprinkles flying everywhere. As chaos erupted and parents rushed to save their sugar-crazed children, Bill slipped unnoticed into the house. Rummaging through the pile of elaborately wrapped gifts, Bill couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of their latest heist. "A kid's birthday party," he muttered, shaking his head. "We've officially hit rock bottom, Mol."