"Hey Molly, got a minute?" Bill said as he poked his head through the window of Molly's dingy apartment. She was lounging on the couch in a stained tank top and shorts, a cigarette dangling from her lips as she flipped through TV channels with the remote. "Christ, Bill, don't you know how to use a door like a normal person? I swear, you've got more damn cats than a feline brothel," Molly grumbled, eyeing the dozen or so felines sprawled across every surface. She took a long drag before stubbing out the cig. "What do you want, anyway? I'm trying to enjoy this trashy reality show." Bill hopped inside, dodging a few hissing tabbies. "Nah nah, I've got an even better show for you! There's this kid's birthday party down on Maple next weekend, and get this - the little brat's parents are loaded. Word on the street is they're gonna be swimming in gifts." Molly arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Uh-huh. And I'm sure this 'word on the street' has nothing to do with your usual back-alley scumbags. Why should I trust anything that comes outta their mouths, eh?" Bill waved a hand dismissively. "Aw c'mon, you know I wouldn't steer ya wrong! This is a gold mine just waiting to be hit, and you know we could use the cash after that last botched job." She sighed heavily and sat up, the cats scattering. "I'm listening, but you better have a damn good plan. I ain't walking into no setup." "Relax, it'll be a piece of cake! We sneak in during the party, snag all the loot, and slip right out before anyone's the wiser. Easy peasy!" Molly snorted derisively. "Easy peasy my ass. You forget what happened the last time we tried a stunt like that? We ended up covered head to toe in baby powder, and the cops nearly nabbed us!" "You got a better idea then?" Bill challenged, putting his hands on his hips. "No, but I've got a better partner," Molly retorted with a smirk. She stood up and cracked her knuckles. "Alright, let's go over this step-by-step. We're gonna need disguises, something to carry all the swag, and a damn