“Are you sure about this, Molly?” Bill whispered, his voice cracking like a dry biscuit. “Breaking into a *child’s party*? Isn’t that a bit… low?” Molly adjusted the oversized novelty sunglasses perched precariously on her nose. “Low? Bill, this is *high finance*. Picture it. A room overflowing with gleaming Lego sets, plush unicorn nightmares, and enough Paw Patrol merchandise to incite a small revolution. We’re talking prime inventory.” “But… the parents. And the sugar-fueled toddlers. They’ll be like tiny, sticky ninjas.” “That’s where you come in, my friend. Your… innate ability to blend in.” Molly nudged him with her elbow. “Remember that time you successfully posed as a sentient garden gnome at Mrs. Higgins’ annual fete?” Bill blushed, or at least his ears did. “That was a one-off. And I was practically vibrating with existential dread. This is different. These kids will have eyes like a hawk.” “Precisely. And we’ll be the squirrels. Cute, unassuming, and completely overlooked until we’ve made off with the nuts. Our nuts, that is.” Molly’s grin was wide enough to swallow a small dog. “The key is misdirection. While you distract the horde with your patented ‘interpretive dance of a melting ice cream cone,’ I’ll be the phantom of the party favors.” “Interpretive dance? Molly, I can barely do the Macarena without tripping over my own two feet. And I certainly don’t have ‘ninja’ skills. My stealth is more ‘accidentally bumping into furniture’ stealth.” “Details, details. You’ll improvise. Think of it as performance art. The art of obtaining forbidden loot.” Molly tapped a finger against her chin. “We’ll need a cover. This is crucial. What do you think? Charity collectors for ‘Underfunded Sock Puppets’?” Bill winced. “That sounds even worse than the gnome gig. How about… aspiring children’s entertainers? We could promise balloon animals.” “Ooh, I like it. You’re the stoic mime, and I’m the chaotic clown who keeps losing her wig.” Molly clapped her hands together, a little too loudly. “Think of the chaos! While everyone’s begging for a poodle balloon, I’ll be discreetly ‘reorganizing’ the gift pile. We have to be quick. They’ll notice the missing Transformer by the time the cake is being cut.” “So, my role is to… be a distraction by being utterly inept at entertaining?” “Exactly! Your natural charm will shine through. Or at least distract them until I’m gone. We’ll need a getaway vehicle. Something inconspicuous. A souped-up pram, perhaps?” Bill shuddered. “Molly, are you *sure* about this? What if we get caught? They’ve got bail money for tiny outfits and juice pouches. It’s serious.” “Relax, Bill. We’re professionals. And besides,” Molly lowered her sunglasses, revealing eyes that gleamed with a fiendish delight, “think of the sheer *audacity* of it. It’s a masterpiece in the makin’.”