Molly leaned back in the creaky kitchen chair, her fingers drumming against a half-empty coffee mug. Bill sat across from her, studying a crude diagram of the birthday party layout. "So you're telling me we're risking everything for a pile of kid's presents?" Bill muttered. Molly rolled her eyes. "Not just presents. These are rich suburbanite kid presents. We're talking limited edition gaming systems, collector's LEGO sets worth thousands." "Impressive," Bill snorted. "We'll look real heroic stealing from a bunch of children." "They won't even notice," Molly said, tracing the party room's layout. "Parents will be distracted, kids will be hyped on sugar. We slip in during the pinata moment, grab the haul, and vanish." Bill raised an eyebrow. "And if someone sees us?" "We're wearing clown costumes," she grinned. "Who's going to suspect birthday party clowns?" "Right," Bill deadpanned. "Because nothing says 'definitely not criminals' like suspicious clowns lurking near children's gifts." Molly slapped the diagram. "Trust me. This is our most foolproof plan yet." Bill just shook his head, a reluctant smile spreading across his face.