As the clock ticked closer to midnight, the alley behind McGregor’s Party Palace was shrouded in shadows. The air thrummed with the distant sound of laughter and shrieks from the kids’ party inside. Molly leaned against a rusted dumpster, checking the time on her gleaming wristwatch. The reflection of the neon "PARTY!" sign danced on her face. “Where’s Bill?” she muttered to herself, glancing nervously at the building’s back entrance. A few seconds later, a figure in a too-tight black catsuit emerged from the shadows, panting heavily. Molly rolled her eyes. “Late again, are we?” Molly quipped, crossing her arms. Bill bent over, catching his breath. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get past those thorny hedges?” he complained, straightening up and brushing leaves from his suit. “And these things are not made for comfort, let me tell you.” “Maybe if you didn’t stop for a burger on the way, you wouldn’t have this problem,” Molly shot back with a smirk. Bill sniffed indignantly. “A man’s gotta eat, Molly. Especially before a strenuous operation like this one.” “Okay, whatever. We’ve got about thirty minutes before the parents start gathering their little hoodlums. Are you ready?” Bill raised an eyebrow, his lips stretching into a mischievous grin. “Ready as we’ll ever be. Did you bring the plan?” Molly pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her back pocket. “Here’s the layout. We sneak in through the kitchen. I’ll distract the clown—apparently they’ve hired one of the best in town.” “The clown?” Bill’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Yes, the clown. While he’s busy with me, you slip into the main room and grab the presents.” Bill nodded. “Piece of cake. What about the kids?” Molly sighed. “I’m working on it. Maybe I can claim an allergy to balloon animals or something. Kids love a good distraction.” Bill chuckled. “Fine, just don’t get too carried away. We only get one shot at this.” Together, they took a deep breath and crept toward the entrance. Slipping master keys from her pocket, Molly made quick work of the lock on the kitchen door. They stepped inside, and the aroma of freshly baked cupcakes hit them like a warm embrace. “Focus, Bill,” Molly whispered urgently as she saw him eyeing the treats. Two chefs dressed like unicorns were busy arranging trays of snacks. Molly put on her most charming smile and sauntered up to them. “Excuse me, gentlemen, could you point me to the restroom?” she asked sweetly, flashing a dazzling smile. While the unicorns were momentarily distracted, Bill tiptoed past and towards the main hall. Bingo. The presents were piled near the far wall, wrapped in shiny paper and bows. Bill’s heart raced as he reached into his bag, pulling out a large sack. “Santa Claus, eat your heart out,” he whispered, stuffing the sack with gifts. Meanwhile, Molly had successfully bewitched the chefs with her tales of imaginary dragon allergies. She caught sight of Bill struggling with the last of the packages and decided to up the ante. “Did I mention I can juggle?” she declared loudly, grabbing three spatulas from a nearby counter. The unicorn chefs stared in amazement. Bill gave her a thumbs-up and motioned towards the exit. She nodded slightly, still juggling as the chefs applauded. “Thank you, thank you! Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, ending her performance with a bow. Molly and Bill hustled out through the back door, their loot in hand when suddenly, the distant sound of a police siren pierced the night. “Oh, come on! Just once, can’t we catch a break?” Bill groaned. Molly rolled her eyes, quickening her pace. “Run first, complain later, Bill. We’ve got a party to crash—elsewhere!”