Molly leaned back in her rickety kitchen chair, twirling a lockpick between her fingers. Bill sat across from her, nursing a lukewarm coffee and looking increasingly nervous. "You can't be serious," Bill muttered. Molly raised an eyebrow. "What? A children's birthday party is the perfect score. Nobody suspects anything." "We're stealing from six-year-olds, Molly. SIX-YEAR-OLDS." "Six-year-olds with rich parents who buy ridiculously expensive gifts," she corrected. "Did you see the invitation? This is some tech billionaire's kid. Those presents are going to be loaded." Bill rubbed his temples. "This feels wrong on so many levels." "Morally? Absolutely," Molly grinned. "Financially? Brilliant." "How exactly do you plan to pull this off? Dress up as a clown? A magician?" "Close. I'm going as a party photographer. Official looking camera, clipboard, the whole nine yards." Bill stared at her. "And I'm what? The getaway driver?" "You're the distraction. You'll create some kind of scene. Spill punch, knock over the cake, something memorable." "I hate you," Bill said flatly. "No, you don't. You love my crazy plans." "I really don't." Molly slid a detailed diagram across the table. Balloons, party layout, estimated gift locations - everything was color-coded and meticulously planned. "You've put way too much thought into robbing children's birthday presents," Bill observed. "Professionals have a process," she replied. "Professionals don't steal from kindergarteners." "These aren't just any presents. We're talking top-tier electronics, collector's items, possibly rare action figures worth thousands." Bill sighed. "Fine. But if we go to prison, I'm blaming you." "Please. My plans are foolproof." "That's what you said about the museum job. And the yacht heist." "Those were learning experiences," Molly said breezily. "This is different." "How?" "This time, I'm certain." Bill knew that tone. It was the same tone she'd used before every spectacularly chaotic mission they'd ever attempted. Part confidence, part madness, completely unpredictable. "We're really doing this?" he asked. "Absolutely," Molly grinned. "Birthday party hit starts at 2 PM. Full tactical gear in the van. I've got the camera, you've got the distraction plan?" Bill pulled out a whoopee cushion and some fake vomit. "Ready and waiting." "Perfect," Molly said. "Let's go steal some six-year-old's birthday loot." Outside, a neighborhood sprinkler spun lazily, oblivious to the impending heist about to unfold in the most unlikely of locations.