Molly leaned back in the rickety folding chair, twirling a lock of her auburn hair. The map of the birthday party layout was spread across the worn kitchen table between her and Bill. "So you're telling me we're risking everything for a bunch of kid's birthday presents?" Bill scratched his stubbled chin. Molly rolled her eyes. "Not just presents. These are top-tier, high-end gifts. The parents are tech executives. We're talking limited edition gaming systems, signed collectibles, probably some vintage action figures worth more than our last three jobs combined." Bill whistled. "How did you even find out about this?" "My cousin's kid goes to the same school," she smirked. "Rich suburban parents always overcompensate. This birthday boy is turning eight, and his parents are hosting a party at a massive bounce house venue." "And the security?" Bill leaned forward. "Minimal. High school kids working minimum wage. We go in during the cake cutting, everyone's distracted, we have exactly seventeen minutes to grab and go." Bill chuckled. "Stealing from children's birthday parties. We've officially hit rock bottom in the criminal underworld." "Hey," Molly pointed her finger, "A score's a score."