Molly thumbed through the flyer one last time. “Target locked down, Bill. It’ll be messy—kids and all,” she said, her tone as composed as her grip on the map. “Nonsense, Molly," Bill scoffed, examining the layout of the house. "We're professional thieves—tape another story to our reputations. And remember, it's all about the loot, not the little tykes." "Calculating estimated time to get out, Bill. Let's not get caught in a preschool P-A-N-T-Y," Molly responded, glancing at her watch, her voice tinged with urgency. "We'll slip through them before the party peaks.”​ "Make sure we sidestep the clowns,” Bill joked, chuckling at the image. "They pose a significant risk to our casing precision." "Good one," Molly laughed, adjusting her high-tech holographic glasses. “First, let’s scop out Mrs. Hudsons’s backyard, see if the garage yields any extra security measures.” "Found her and the other parents on our spy drone. Looks like all hands are off with the baby watching the latest 'Archie'-themed play." “Then, the perfect window," Molly beamed, pointing at the screen. "But wait—there's a PinkPanther security drone on semi-scheduled patrol, casting disproportionately large shadows." "P.S., remind me to jokingly tell them it's a security flaw," Bill bantered, pulling out a tiny remote device from his sleeve. “Got a preschool-level hack programmed. Let's disable that critter before it chases us." "Laugh in the face of a PinkPanther, huh, Bill?" Molly grinned, flicking through her espionage manuals. "Now, to our plans. Yes, thieves. Discreet disembarkation before the star dress-up contest. Keys are in the disappearing handkerchief loophole.” "Rien-about-kids-will-eventually-catch-us. We’ll swan dive into the nanny’s closet, change, our scene is richer without the kiddie chaos. The trophy room directly north of Mrs. Hudsons’s?" "Forehead transistors set to low blush mode. Narrow this operation down before it gets as bright as the holiday lights, stabalipos, or a table scrape in our way. Not on my watch.” "Our phony believable alibi will focus on the neighbor kids' choice of dress-up patterns. Plus, after-party fiasco as blame on local teens with a rivalry to satisfy,” "A 'side mission' to collect juice boxes. It's part of the scene. Local kids' favorite. Commit to the lore, Haversine, and let's calculate a more precise exit nod. Capiche?” "Smooth enough. Surprise begs a deep appreciation for qualifications, not a second chance job. Speaking of, Amber counter-assignment here. Suggests we book a table at 'Circus Houdini’s’ next heist meeting. Our new feat, an escape act from this party—will be the finale.” "Perfect mise-en-scène. We're not just any thieves, we're masters of misdirection and mayhem. On it, thief-haters!” "Thief-haters … We like the sound of that, Molly. With these plans, we'll wrap up this party as snugly as that jolly bobby-the-sleuth in an elf's shoes. Let's bring the house down, with wisdom from a cat burglar and a dash of childhood wonder." With twinkling mischief in her eyes, Molly slipped away, rendezvous with Bill, where their hushed plan would soon unfold into a night rememberable not by the mirth of little merrymakers but by the stealth and guile of two master thieves.