Molly adjusted her ski mask in the dimly lit van, studying the blueprints of the suburban house spread across the table. Bill fidgeted with a grappling hook, occasionally glancing at the neighborhood through binoculars. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the street where children's bicycles lay scattered on lawns. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Bill whispered, his voice muffled by his own mask. "It looks so... normal. And I think I just saw a golden retriever." "That's the beauty of it, Bill," Molly replied, tapping a finger on the map. "Nobody suspects a children's birthday party to be a target. Security will be minimal. As for the dog, I've brought tranquilizer treats." "Tranquilizer treats? You've thought of everything." "I try to be thorough. Now, the plan: I'll create a diversion by setting off the sprinkler system. While the parents are panicking, you sneak in through the back door." "But we're stealing from kids, Molly. Little Timmy's eighth birthday, according to the invitation we found. I saw his picture on the mailbox. He has glasses." "It's not stealing from kids, it's... redistributing joy. We're taking the presents before they're emotionally attached to them. It's practically a service." "A service? We're criminals." "Reformed criminals with hearts of gold. Now, the plan: I'll create a diversion by setting off the sprinkler system. While the parents are panicking, you sneak in through the back door." "What about the clown?" "What clown?" "The invitation mentioned a clown. 'Bubbles the Clown will be there from 2-4 pm.' Clowns have peripheral vision, you know. And big shoes. They're surprisingly agile." "I hadn't considered the clown factor," Molly admitted, making a note on her tablet. "Okay, new plan: you handle the clown. Distract him with... I don't know, balloon animals or something." "I don't know how to make balloon animals!" "Fine. I'll handle the clown. You just grab the presents. But be quick about it - those things are wrapped in noisy paper." "Should I use the silent bag we used for the jewelry heist?" "Perfect. Remember the code phrase: 'Is this the piñata room?' If anyone asks, you're delivering the emergency backup piñata." "What if they already have a piñata?" "Then you say, 'Excellent, I'll just set this one up as a surprise.' Think on your feet, Bill!" "Right. But what if the kids see me?" "Kids love mysterious strangers in masks, Bill. Trust me. I read it in a psychology journal. It's the 'unknown benefactor' effect." "Are you sure you didn't read that in a comic book?" "Same difference. Now, get ready. In five minutes, we become the worst people in the world... or the smartest gift-reclaimers in history." "I still think we should just buy our own presents." "Where's the fun in that? Now remember, the presents are probably in the master bedroom, hidden from sight until cake time. Look for gift bags with cartoon characters." "Like which ones?" "How should I know? The popular ones. The mouse, the yellow electric thing, the ice princess with the snowman." "You mean Mickey Mouse, Pikachu, and Elsa from Frozen?" "Sure, whatever. Just grab anything that looks like a parent spent too much money on it." "What if one of the presents is a puppy? I can't put a puppy in the silent bag." "If there's a puppy, we're taking it. I've always wanted a dog." "But we're stealing from kids, Molly." "Fine. We'll leave the puppy. But only the puppy. Everything else is fair game." "This is the most morally confusing heist we've ever done." "Crime isn't supposed to be easy, Bill. Now check your watch. Three minutes to showtime."