Molly, her eyes gleaming with mischief, adjusted her tiny beret. "You sure about this, Bill?" Bill, his chubby hands tucked into his trench coat, nodded. "Positive. The old man's at the game, and the kids are scattered. It'll be like picking fruit from a tree." Molly scoffed, "And what makes you an expert on kids' parties, Bill? You look like the Grinch in a Christmas sweater." Bill grinned, "Well, I did have a kid once. Now, where's my map?" Molly sighed, pulling out a worn-out napkin with scribbled lines. "Here. But remember, no touching the presents." Bill's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Not a joking matter. It's a children's party, Bill. They'll have their names on them." Bill chuckled, "You love to complicate things, don't you?" Molly shrugged. "Someone's gotta keep you honest." Bill reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of latex gloves. "Alright, let's do this. On the count of three." Molly nodded. "Three, two, one—" Bill's eyes widened as the door creaked open. "Wait! What's that noise?" Molly froze, her heart pounding. "It's a cat." Bill cursed under his breath. "Well, it's not a kid." Molly smirked, "Oh, Bill. Always so dramatic." The cat, a sleek black feline, stared at them from the shadows. Bill stifled a laugh. "You know, maybe we should leave the presents alone." Molly rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. It's just a cat." Bill sighed, "Well, if you insist." Molly nodded, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Alright, let's get this show on the road." Bill pulled out the lock-picking set, his hands shaking slightly. "Just remember what I said about touching the presents." Molly grinned, "Promises, promises." As Bill fiddled with the lock, Molly whispered, "You know, Bill, I think we're going to be just fine. It's like... like we're in a heist movie." Bill looked up, a grin on his face. "Yeah, just like in a heist movie."