“Right, Bill, the ‘Princess Sparklehoof and Friends Magical Birthday Bash Extravaganza’,” Molly announced, tapping a manicured finger on a brightly colored flyer. “Saturday. Two to four PM. Backyard of Mrs. Henderson’s, 14 Maple Drive. Our target: the presents.” Bill, a man whose beard seemed to be in a constant existential crisis, adjusted his monocle. “Molly, dearest partner in… less-than-legal acquisitions, are we really stooping to kleptomania at a five-year-old’s birthday? Won’t the karma be, shall we say, particularly glittery upon us?” “Don’t be dramatic, Bill. These aren’t just any presents. These are high-value, newly-minted, still-in-the-packaging presents. Think of the resell market! Plus, Mrs. Henderson is notoriously stingy with her party bags. We’re providing a public service by redistributing wealth, albeit in a slightly unconventional manner.” Bill sighed, a sound like a deflating hot air balloon. “And the security? One would assume a fortress of bouncy castles and overly sugared toddlers awaits us.” “Exactly! Their greatest strength is their greatest weakness. Who suspects the balloon animal vendor? Or the professional face painter? That’s where we come in. I’m thinking… the magician.” Bill choked on his own beard hair. “The magician? Molly, my sleight of hand extends to pickpocketing, not pulling rabbits out of hats without accidentally setting the hat on fire.” Molly waved a dismissive hand. “Details, details. We don’t *do* the magic, Bill. We *are* the magic. Or rather, we use the magic as a distraction. You, my friend, are the enigmatic ‘Mysterious Billini’, purveyor of prestidigitation and… dramatic pauses.” “Dramatic pauses I can do,” Bill conceded, a glint entering his eye. “Will there be smoke? And perhaps a dove? I’m rather fond of doves.” “No doves, Bill. Too messy. But plenty of smoke, yes. And glitter. So much glitter. While you’re wowing them with your… dramatic pauses, I’ll be in ‘Princess Sparklehoof's Royal Tent of Dreams’, which, according to the map, is conveniently located next to the present table.” “And how, precisely, will you access these highly coveted gifts without drawing the ire of a dozen pint-sized sugar fiends?” “Simple. The ‘Giant Inflatable Rainbow Slide’. A quick shimmy, a graceful dismount, a discreet scoop, and I’m back on the slide before anyone notices the absence of the ‘Sparkle Surprise Unicorn Dream Castle’ playset. Stealth, Bill, stealth.” “A slide, Molly? Have you considered the potential for wardrobe malfunctions? One cannot execute a flawless heist in a less-than-dignified state.” “Relax, Bill. I’ll be wearing my ‘Party Planner Extraordinaire’ disguise. Full jumpsuit, sensible shoes, utility belt. No wardrobe malfunctions. Unless you count the occasional rogue cupcake frosting smear, which I can handle.” “And what if little Penelope Henderson, the birthday girl herself, catches you mid-scoop? She has a rather… intense gaze, according to Mrs. Henderson’s Christmas letter.” “Then I’ll tell her it’s a surprise party trick. A pre-unwrapping ritual. Or maybe I’ll offer her a slightly crushed cookie. Works every time. Don’t worry, Bill. This will be our most charmingly audacious heist yet. Just you, me, and a whole lot of unicorn-themed loot.” Bill sighed again, but a faint smile played on his lips. “Alright, Molly. Mysterious Billini it is. But if I have to make a balloon animal for a particularly demanding six-year-old, I'm deducting it from your cut.”