The dingy basement flickered with unreliable fluorescent lighting as Molly paced the concrete floor, her expensive boots clicking rhythmically. Bill slouched in a tattered office chair, spinning lazily while balancing a pencil on his upper lip. "So let me get this straight," Molly said, stopping abruptly. "Your grand master plan is a children's birthday party?" Bill let the pencil fall and caught it with surprising dexterity. "Not just any children's birthday party. The Goldstein twins' birthday extravaganza." "Twins? As in twice the screaming?" "As in twice the presents," Bill corrected, tapping the pencil against a newspaper clipping. "The Goldsteins are loaded. These kids get the latest everything." Molly leaned against the planning table. "Rich kids or not, it seems like small potatoes. We usually go for jewelry stores, art galleries..." "That's exactly why it's brilliant!" Bill jumped up, nearly knocking over his chair. "Nobody expects professional thieves at a bouncy castle. Security will be non-existent." "Except for thirty hyped-up eight-year-olds and their helicopter parents," Molly countered. Bill waved dismissively. "Details, details. I've got it all figured out. We pose as entertainers from Giggle-and-Hop Party Services." "And what exactly will we be entertaining them with? My last magic trick was making bail money disappear." "You worry too much," Bill said, spreading out crude drawings on the table. "I've got clown costumes. We do a few balloon animals, tell some knock-knock jokes, then you create a distraction while I hit the present table." Molly picked up one of the drawings. "Is this supposed to be me? Why do I have a rainbow afro?" "It's a clown wig. It's festive!" "I'm not wearing this," Molly stated flatly. "And how exactly am I creating this distraction?" Bill grinned. "Simple. You announce it's time for the Bubble Bonanza." "The what now?" "Bubble Bonanza! Kids go crazy for bubbles. You pull out this industrial bubble machine I got," he proudly patted a large contraption in the corner, "crank it to maximum, and voilà! Complete chaos while I empty the gift table into these backpacks." Molly rubbed her temples. "This is ridiculous. What about the parents?" "They'll be too busy taking photos for their Instagram. Trust me, nobody watches the present table. It's the perfect crime!" "Perfect crime? We're stealing Legos and video games from children. That's a special kind of low, even for us." "Designer Legos. Limited edition video games. Collectible action figures still in the box," Bill corrected. "Worth thousands on the resale market." Molly sighed deeply. "Fine. But I'm not wearing the rainbow wig." "Deal. You can have the purple one instead." "No wigs!" "Fine, fine. You can be the face-painter." "Do I look like I can paint faces?" Bill assessed her. "You're right. You can barely apply your own eyeliner straight." "Watch it, clown boy." "So we're doing this?" Bill asked, hopeful excitement lighting his eyes. Molly shook her head in resignation. "God help me, yes. But when we're arrested by a squad of angry soccer moms, I'm telling them this was all your idea."