Molly adjusted her Batman mask while peering through the flimsy curtain of the reception hall's partition. "Alright, Bill, we've got the perfect opportunity. The clown's busy juggling apples, and the kids are all entranced by the magician's assistant. The grunt work's done, all we gotta do is—" Bill gave her a stern look from his perched position on the movable stage. "Not so fast, partner. First, we need to understand the lay of the land. Are we talking about presents in favorably portable bags or do we need to get creative?" Molly shook her head, her curly red hair bobbing under the mask. "Nah, the birthday girl's mom mentioned they'd be displayed on a high clearance table. Those damn things were a gift from her over-achieving father-in-law. They've got some heavy, fancy cellophane-wrapped boxes that will take some effort to lift." Bill whistled low, his eyes scanning the room. "Let's get this straight, we're not only stealing from a kids' party but from what sounds like a generous if pointlessly competitive adult as well. I'm loving this." Molly chuckled. "Hey, when you're as good as we are, you take the high-profile jobs. So, what's your plan?" Bill lowered his mask, revealing his freckled face with beads of sweat forming above his mustache. "I've got an idea. We need to distract the clown and the magician simultaneously. You grab the external doors, I'll sneak to the stage, and we meet at the high table to start moving present boxes into those lame diaper bags we brought." Molly's eyebrows raised. "You're trusting me with the escape route?" Bill smiled sheepishly. "Well, when I'm creating a diversion, I might be a bit...distracted." Molly clasped her hands together. "I accept this plan, Bill. May the force be with us." Bill cleared his throat, his eyes wandering over to the children with their glittery faces glued in anticipation. "Okay, herein lies our master plan: I'll begin by juggling a few oranges while you set off—" Molly grasped his arm, narrowing her eyes. "Ours not to reason why...just please, no oranges." Bill sighed, a grin spreading across his face. "Fine, you set off the confetti cannon beside the piñata, and I'll try to, you know, not get too carried away with my...enthusiasm." They shared a knowing, mischievous gaze before putting their plan into action. Molly strode confidently toward the exit door and pressed the detonator, broadcasting a colorful shower of confetti and a flurry of toy snakes. The crowd gasped and cheered, their eyes following the colorful burst. Bill threw his upper body into a juggling routine, accidentally tossing a bell to the ground. The clown's attention shifted to the resounding clang, catching his gaze long enough for Bill to scramble off the makeshift stage and behind a curtain as the kids began to cry out 'The boogeyman! The boogeyman!' With Bill camouflaged and Molly holding the entrance doors open, they squeezed the time-frame between the magician's finale and the impending parental investigative surge. They hurried to the high table, grabbing gifts and tossing them into their flimsy diaper bags. Molly stumbled momentarily, the weight of one particularly heavy box sending her mask askew. Bill snickered, steadying her grip. "Don't wanna leave an imprint of your techno-green hair, do we?" Molly playfully smacked his arm. "Shut up, it's Batman green. Now let's get to the car before the parents turn this place into a crime scene!" As they hastened out of the party center, their delight echoed through the hall. Their getaway vehicle, a pimped-out stroller, wobbled under the load. "Nice save!" Bill praised, buckling up. Molly grinned, the wind tossing her curls. "That's why they call me The Avenging Bandit." Bill echoed her laughter, their caper complete beneath a canopy of twinkling party lights and disoriented screams. The children's laughter lingered in their ears as they vanished into the night. Their reputations as smooth criminals remained intact, leaving behind naïve partygoers disconnected from the heist unfolding before them. As they vanished from sight, Molly caught a glimpse of the clown standing outside the building, his painted-on smile frozen—his juggling apple caught mid-air. Justice had been done, and the children would never know better. Only the echoes of mirth and chaos remained. For Molly and Bill, it was art. The highest form of thievery, indeed.