Molly traced her finger along the blueprint of the suburban house, her eyes narrowed with concentration. Bill leaned against the wall, munching on a stale donut and watched her with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "So let me get this straight," Bill said, powdered sugar dusting his chin, "we're robbing a kids' birthday party?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Not just any party. This is the Hendersons' annual extravaganza. Their eight-year-old son gets more expensive gifts than most adults get in a lifetime." The kitchen table was covered in surveillance photos, diagrams of the house's layout, and what looked like a detailed schedule of the party's events. Miniature toy soldiers were positioned strategically across a hand-drawn map, representing their planned entry and exit points. "The parents hired a magician, a bouncy castle, and some weird superhero character actor," Molly continued. "Maximum chaos, minimum attention." Bill wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "And how exactly are we going to blend in?" Molly pulled out two costumes from a duffel bag: a clown outfit and a low-rent superhero costume that looked like it had been purchased from a discount Halloween store. The fabric was thin and the colors slightly faded. "You're kidding," Bill muttered. "Professional infiltration, my friend," Molly said with a wink. "The clown will distract, the superhero will 'entertain', and while everyone's looking elsewhere, we lift those gifts." The plan was meticulously crafted, down to the minute-by-minute breakdown of the party's schedule. Background checks on the family, detailed information about their security system, and a carefully plotted escape route completed their preparation. "We're talking what, maybe fifteen grand in gifts?" Bill asked, picking up a photo of the massive pile of wrapped presents from last year's party. "Conservative estimate. These people don't do anything halfway." Molly tapped a particularly large gift box in the photo. "That looks like a gaming system, top-of-the-line electronics. Plus jewelry the grandparents always send." Bill adjusted the superhero mask, which was slightly lopsided. "And if something goes wrong?" "Nothing goes wrong," Molly said firmly. "We've planned this for months. Children's parties are chaos by design. We're just going to be two more moving parts in that chaos." The afternoon sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across their intricate plans. Two seasoned thieves, dressed in the most ridiculous costumes imaginable, were about to infiltrate a children's birthday party with the precision of a military operation. Bill sighed. "I can't believe this is our job." Molly grinned. "Beats a nine-to-five, doesn't it?"