Molly scribbled on a crumpled map of "Kiddie Kingdom" amusement park, the venue for Timmy's 7th birthday extravaganza. She and Bill huddled in the cramped, dimly lit café, surrounded by the faint scent of stale coffee and burnt pastry. "Alright, so we've got three entrances, but only one exit," Molly said, tracing the route with a pen. "We'll go in through the ball pit. Less chance of being seen." Bill raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You want to go into a children's party via a sea of plastic balls? Are we committing a crime or trying out for a surrealist art piece?" Molly deadpanned, "Hey, it's all about the element of surprise. Who'd think to look for thieves in a pit of bright blue spheres?" "Fair point," Bill conceded, chuckling. "And once we're in, the plan is to...?" "Blend in, find the gift table, and swap the presents with our replicas. We'll be out with the loot before the piñata's even broken open." Bill whistled softly. "You've really thought this through. But what about the, ah, 'moral implications' of stealing from children?" Molly's expression turned wry. "Come on, Bill, these kids are from the wealthy side of town. They'll just get more stuff for Christmas. We're basically doing them a favor – teaching them the value of material loss." Bill snorted. "You're a dark, twisted soul, Molly. I adore it." As they pored over the plan, the sounds of the café receded, replaced by the mental image of themselves in ridiculous disguises, frantically swapping gifts amidst the chaos of a children's party. "Disguises," Bill said, as if reading Molly's mind. "What did you have in mind?" Molly's grin was mischievous. "I was thinking, clown costumes. Who'd suspect a couple of oversized, red-nosed clowns?" Bill's face contorted in mock horror. "You can't be serious. I have a reputation to uphold as a sophisticated thief." "Sophisticated thief? You wore a fedora to the last job, Bill," Molly teased. "Hey, that fedora added a touch of class to our burglary of the antique teapot collection!" Their banter was interrupted by the café owner, who slapped a check on their table, eyeing them warily. "You two lovebirds done plotting...whatever it is you're plotting?" Molly and Bill exchanged a look, then in perfect sync, chimed, "Just planning a surprise party, sir!" The owner harrumphed, clearly unconvinced, and stalked off, muttering under his breath. Once out of earshot, Bill leaned in, a conspiratorial whisper escaping his lips, "You know, for a surprise party, we're bringing an awful lot of lockpicks and false presents." Molly winked. "Just covering all our bases, Bill. After all, surprises can be so...unpredictable."