The bakery down the street displayed the kind of sugary temptations that usually caused Molly a bout of sugar-crazed jitters, but today she was focused on other sweets: piñatas overflowing with candy, mountains of wrapped presents glistening under twinkle lights, and a king-sized chocolate fountain practically begging to be dipped into. Bill, ever the cynic, eyed the display with suspicion. "Commercialized sugar rush, that's all it is, designed to make kids hyper and parents desperate." But Molly wasn't listening. Her mind was already conjuring up a plan, one involving a strategically placed burlap sack, a well-timed distraction with a chorus of overly enthusiastic "Happy Birthday"s, and, of course, her finest set of lockpicks. "Okay, Bill, here's the deal," she finally said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We're gonna hit a birthday bash. Think you can handle a potential barrage of glitter cannons and rambunctious toddlers?" Bill scoffed. "Honestly, Molly, I thought you were supposed to be the planner." He adjusted the strap on his backpack, presumably filled with crucial tools of the trade. "But sure, let's steal some sweets." feed