Molly leaned against the worn, gray wall of the abandoned warehouse, eyes fixed on the crude blueprint of "Kiddie Kingdom" taped to a makeshift easel. Bill stood beside her, munching on a stale donut, his gaze drifting between the layout and Molly's determined expression. "Alright, so we've got the layout down. Party's in the main hall, presents are stashed in the 'Treasure Trove' – aka the storage room off the birthday boy's play area," Molly outlined, tracing the path with her finger. "Sounds like a cakewalk...pun intended." Bill's chuckle was met with Molly's stern look. "What? It's a kids' party. There's gonna be cake." "Not the point, Bill. The point is getting in, grabbing the loot, and getting out without getting caught amidst a room full of sugar-high minors." "Right, right. No unnecessary cake sampling. Got it." Bill's eyes sparkled with amusement as he licked his fingers, crumbs falling to the ground. Molly sighed, shaking her head. "Focus. We need disguises. Something that blends in with the chaperones." "I was thinking we go as clowns. Who suspects a clown?" Bill suggested, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Clowns are the worst, Bill. Terrifying and obvious. We're thinking... soccer moms. Yes, that's it. We dress up as overly enthusiastic parents, and no one gives us a second glance." Bill's face fell, "Aww, come on. No bright red nose and oversized pants?" "No," Molly said firmly, "Instead, think pastel-colored sweatsuits and an unhealthy obsession with juice boxes." "Sounds spot on for a stealth operation," Bill deadpanned, wiping the remnants of his donut on his jeans. Molly ignored his sarcasm, moving on. "Once we're in, you create a diversion near the bouncy castle while I slip into the Treasure Trove. In and out, five-minute window." "Got my diversion strategy right here," Bill fished out a whoopee cushion from his backpack, grinning mischievously. Molly rolled her eyes. "That's your plan? A whoopee cushion in a crowded room of children?" "Hey, it's a classic. It'll either clear the room or draw a crowd. Either way, distraction achieved." With a deep breath, Molly rubbed her temples. "Let's just stick to the plan, minus any, ah, 'gas-filled' surprises, okay?" Bill chuckled, tucking the whoopee cushion back into his bag. "Spoilsport. Alright, soccer mom attire and serious faces it is, then." As they began to gather their gear, Molly couldn't help but shoot Bill a side-eyed glance. "Just remember, no clowning around." Bill's laughter echoed through the warehouse, "Oh, that one was cake..."