Under the dim glow of a streetlamp, Molly and Bill crouched behind the trunk of a gnarled oak tree, their eyes fixed on the brightly lit house across the street. Streamers fluttered from the windows and the faint sound of cheery music squeaked through the cracks of the lively home, where the children’s laughter rang like chimes in the wind. “I say we go in disguised as clowns,” Molly whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she watched another pair of entertainers disappear into the house, arms laden with balloons. Bill, dressed inconspicuously in dark, frowned at the suggestion. “Clowns? Really? Why not something less… terrifying?” In the bushes, a stray cat launched at a fluttering moth, adding a brief, chaotic rustle to their whispered conference. Molly stifled a laugh, then pulled a red nose out of her pocket and popped it onto Bill’s nose. “Because, my dear skeptic, nobody questions a clown at a party.” Bill sighed, reluctantly accepting the nose. “Fine. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you.” Molly grinned, her plan taking shape. “Trust me. Who’d suspect a couple of clowns?” With that, she led the way, their sneakers silent against the cool pavement.