Molly huddled behind the meticulously trimmed Arborvitae shrubs lining the perimeter of the expansive backyard. Bill joined her, his expression a comic mixture of nerves and enthusiasm. It was the height of folly, their scheme, and both of them knew it, yet the thrill of the absurd mission quickened their pulses. “Whose idea was it again to gatecrash a kiddie party?” Bill asked, adjusting the ridiculous oversized sunglasses perched awkwardly on his nose. “Well, technically, it was yours,” Molly whispered back, hardly able to keep the smirk from her face. She peeked over the top of the hedge, surveilling the scene. Balloons, a bouncy castle, and tables laden with gifts galore. It was as if the universe itself had conspired to tease them with an unlikely jackpot. “I believe you were the one who said, ‘Let’s do something mad for once, Bill,’” he retorted, feigning indignation while he checked the contents of his backpack. Walkie-talkies, check. Tiny, ridiculous hats for disguises, check. A map of the garden they had drawn on a napkin, double check. “Shh, details! Anyway, focus. Remember, Operation Lollipop gets rolling as soon as the clown starts his balloon animal show,” Molly planned, referring to a lanky man dressed in vibrant polka dots currently entertaining shrieking children. Bill nodded solemnly, clutching a toy wand they’d nabbed from a dollar store as part of their wizard and fairy themed disguise. “Do we really have to call it Operation Lollipop?” “It’s whimsical!” Molly insisted, as she donned a glittering faux tiara. “It sets the mood.” Their banter was interrupted by the distant squeals of excited children, signaling the commencement of the anticipated balloon show. This was it. Molly and Bill exchanged a look, a mix of fear and glee, before slipping into the crowd like two absurdly dressed wolves among unsuspecting sheep. As Bill fumbled with the tiny hat, trying to look inconspicuous among a sea of giggling six-year-olds, Molly sidled up to the table piled high with brightly wrapped gifts. She marveled at the absurdity of being a wizard at a child’s party, about to commit grand theft piñata. Bill’s voice crackled through the walkie-talkie hidden in Molly’s pocket. “You clear?” “Crystal,” she responded, briskly stuffing a particularly flashy gift into her voluminous fairy skirt. The sheer thrill was intoxicating; not even her stint as a faux psychic at a car dealership gig had been this exhilarating. “Meet at the rendezvous point,” Bill said, already edging towards their planned escape through the evergreens. Gifts in tow, they regrouped breathlessly at the fence, the distant sound of laughter and music buffering their adrenaline-fueled escape. They scrambled over, the gifts protected as if they were carrying delicate treasures rather than snatched loot from tots. As they made their getaway, the rush of the heist still tingling in their veins, Bill couldn’t help but chuckle. “We’re never going to be able to show our faces at a children's party ever again, you know.” Molly, clutching a stolen teddy bear, grinned widely. “Oh, come on, where’s your sense of adventure? Next time, we target a wedding. Operation Cupcake, anyone?” They laughed, disappearing into the afternoon as mysteriously as they had arrived, the day marked by the absurdity only true mischief could afford.