“Are you sure about this, Bill? A children’s birthday party?” “Molly, it’s genius! They never suspect a thing. All those adults distracted, sticky-fingered kids running wild, and a mountain of untouched loot. Prime real estate for our particular talents.” “But the presents, Bill. They’re for innocent little… toddlers.” “Exactly! Who’s going to notice one less talking unicorn when there are thirty other duplicates? Think of the sheer volume! And the parents? Swept up in the sugar rush and the collective chaos. It’s perfect cover.” “What about security? Are we talking bouncy castle bouncers with walkie-talkies?” “No, no, darling. Just… parents. Overwhelmed, possibly slightly tipsy parents. Our biggest threat is likely a rogue juice box or a particularly aggressive party clown.” “A clown? Bill, I have a thing about clowns.” “Relax, it’s just a theoretical clown. The real target is the present table. We’ll be in and out like a particularly stealthy sugar glider.” “A sugar glider carrying a sack full of teddy bears and train sets?” “Precisely! Now, the distraction. You, my dear, will be in charge of the bubble machine. Max settings. Go for broke. Total sensory overload.” “And you?” “I, Molly, will be the benevolent ‘lost uncle.’ Patting heads, offering unsolicited advice about potty training, and subtly relocating the goods.” “Lost uncle, bubble assault. This is either brilliant or we’re going to jail for grand theft… toddler.” “Optimism, Molly! It’s what built this empire!”