Molly twirled a lockpick between her fingers as she paced back and forth in front of the blueprint. "It's just a bunch of toddlers, Bill. How hard could it be?" Bill scratched his scruffy beard, studying the map with squinted eyes. "That's precisely why it's dangerous, Molly. Ever tried negotiating with a three-year-old?" "I'll leave the tantrums to you. But look, we'll go in through the back gate. Security is tighter than a tick at the front." Molly traced her finger along the paper, stopping at the 'X' marked 'Presents.' "That's our jackpot." Bill rolled his eyes, "You've got a real sweet spot for kid's toys, haven't you?" "Sentimental value, Bill. Now, once inside, we'll blend in as party entertainers." "Oh great," Bill groaned, "I can just see myself in a clown suit juggling balloons." "Nah, not your style," Molly smirked, tossing him a brochure, "You'll be 'Bobo the Balloon Blower.'" "Bobo?!" Bill spluttered, flipping through the pamphlet, "How'd you come up with Bobo?!" "Alliteration, Bill. It's all about the branding. As for me, I'll be the face painter. I always fancied myself a bit of an artist." Bill snorted, "Your paint jobs on the fence weren't all that impressive." "Hey, it served its purpose. So, once I've gathered enough intel from the kids, I'll give you the signal. Then we'll make our move." Bill frowned, "What kind of signal?" Molly dramatically cleared her throat, before breaking into an off-key rendition of 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' "When you hear this melodious tune, you'll know it's time.” Bill winced, "I think I'd rather get caught than listen to that." "Tough luck, Bill. That's the plan. Now go suit up, Bobo." Bill scowled but trudged off to change. Minutes later, he emerged, fully decked out in a rainbow-colored jumpsuit, red nose, and oversized shoes. Molly burst into laughter, "Oh Bill, you're priceless!" "Just remember, this was your idea," Bill grumbled. Molly wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling, "Let's roll, Bobo." As they approached the party venue, Bill waddled in his clown costume, balloons bouncing off each other, creating a cacophony of squeaky noises. They slipped through the back gate unnoticed. Inside, chaos reigned supreme. Toddlers ran amok, shrieks and giggles filled the air. Molly set up her face painting station, keeping one eye on the present table. Bill started twisting balloons into animal shapes, garnering delighted squeals from the kids. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until one particularly curious tot decided to tug at Bill's fake nose. Bill panicked, trying to keep his voice low, "Molly, we've got a situation here!" Molly casually glanced over, "Just give him a balloon sword or something." Bill hastily twisted a balloon sword, handing it to the kid, who promptly whacked him on the head with it. As more children noticed, they swarmed around Bill, eager for their own balloon weapons. "Molly, I'm losing control here!" Bill hissed. "Alright, I'm moving in," Molly whispered back. She began her serenade, causing several nearby children to cover their ears. Bill recognized the signal, his moment of escape. He stumbled away from the horde of tiny terrors, joining Molly at the present table. Together, they swiftly stuffed the presents into their bags. Just as they were about to make their escape, a small voice piped up behind them, "Are you stealing the presents?" Molly froze, slowly turning around to face the wide-eyed child. With a forced smile, she said, "No sweetie, we're just testing how heavy they are." The kid tilted his head, "Why?" "Because...because..." Molly stammered. "Because it's a game!" Bill interjected, "And you've won! Here, have a balloon sword." He quickly twisted another sword, handing it to the child. Satisfied with the answer and his new toy, the kid ran off, leaving Molly and Bill to breathe a sigh of relief. They slipped out the back gate unnoticed, their bags filled with stolen goodies.