Molly spread the blueprints of "Little Tykes Playland" across the cramped kitchen table, her eyes scanning the layout with the intensity of a general planning a siege. Bill, lounging in the chair opposite, crunched lazily on a carrot stick, his gaze drifting between the diagrams and the TV, where a soap opera drama was unfolding. "Alright, here's the plan," Molly said, her finger tracing the path through the ball pit to the party rooms. "We hit 'Princess Pam's 5th Birthday Bash' during the piñata smashing. Chaos will be our cover." Bill's attention snapped back to the table. "And what, exactly, are we expecting to score from a bunch of five-year-olds?" Molly's grin was mischievous. "Not just any presents, Bill. Pam's parents are loaded. Think designer dolls, the latest gaming consoles... We're talking a haul that could pay off our bar tabs for a year." Bill whistled softly, his interest piqued. "Now, that's a party worth crashing."