Molly leaned back in the rickety kitchen chair, her combat boots propped on the scarred table between them. She twirled a lockpick between her fingers, eyeing Bill with a mix of amusement and skepticism. "So you're telling me we're going to rob a five-year-old's birthday party?" She raised an eyebrow. Bill spread out a detailed blueprint of a suburban home, complete with party layout and guest list. "Not just any party. This is the Hendersons' annual blowout. Do you know how many rich relatives they invite?" "I'm listening," Molly drawled. "Grandparents from the Cayman Islands, tech millionaire uncles, venture capitalist aunts. Each kid gets gifts worth thousands. We're talking limited edition LEGO sets, custom-made electronics, designer everything." Bill's fingers traced potential entry points. Molly chuckled. "Stealing from children. We're really hitting rock bottom, aren't we?" "Technically, we're stealing from wealthy adults who happen to be giving gifts to children," Bill corrected, pulling out surveillance photos. "That makes it so much more ethical," Molly said sarcastically. "What's the entry strategy?" Bill pointed to a side window. "Bounce house delivery truck arrives at 2 PM. Perfect distraction. While everyone's watching giant inflatable Minecraft characters being set up, we slip in through the kitchen." "Bounce house. Genius," Molly muttered. "And security?" "Minimal. One bored teenager hired as a 'supervisor' who'll be more interested in her phone. Grandparents are too busy taking photos. Parents are gossipping in the living room." Molly leaned forward. "Getaway?" "Rental van. Wrapped like a party supply vehicle. We'll be invisible." Bill grinned. "How long to grab and go?" She tapped her fingers on the table. "Twelve minutes. Max. Smash-and-grab. Expensive gifts only. No cheap plastic toys." Molly whistled. "Twelve minutes to rob a children's birthday party. We are officially the worst criminals in history." Bill shrugged. "Worst, or most innovative?" "Pretty sure we're going to hell," Molly said, but she was already studying the blueprint. "Special hell," Bill agreed. "Reserved for people who steal from children's birthday parties." "But with really nice stolen gifts," Molly added. They shared a look - part guilt, part excitement, mostly professional appreciation for a well-planned heist. Outside, a car alarm chirped. Inside, two professional thieves continued plotting their most morally questionable job yet - robbing a children's birthday party of its most expensive presents, leaving behind a trail of confusion and disappointed wealthy relatives. Just another Thursday for Molly and Bill.