Molly Buford had an idea. She tapped Bill Drake on the shoulder to grab his attention. French baguettes never appeared to have any guards or big fancy alarm systems. And if there was a kid running around with the loot, mam, chances are they'd never know a thing, said Molly. Bill crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at his friend. Let's break into a children's party? You've got to be kidding me. Molly rolled her eyes. We are not breaking into a children's party. We're going to a children's party, and we're taking all their presents. It's a heist, Bill. A children's party heist. Bill chuckled. Now that you mention it, I do feel kinda hungry. Where to find this party? I hear you tickets are available at the historic mansion, corner of Main and Second. Don't ask me how that venue came about, Bill. I just know we can eat our fill of free food and steal as many toys as we like. Bill's eyes lit up like a Christmas village. Alright, I'm in. Let's not forget the details, though, said Bill as they walked to the mansion. We need costumes, masks, and a plan B in case some mini detective spots us. We'll need those raffle tickets, said Molly. Remember, act normal but pocket all the tickets. The mother of the birthday child holds the key to our loot. Bill and Molly entered the mansion, taking in the lavish displays and hillarious masks everyone wore. Those must have been worth some dough, mused Molly. Well, what do you see, Bill? Bill glanced around the room, which was filled with children and adults having a blast, all admiring the various acts. Molly, let’s work our way over there, keep an eye on the raffle table. Let me go check the dessert buffet. She winked when Bill looked at her, and walked over to the dessert table. Sundaes, pies, cakes, cookies... all that sweet temptation. She started clicking her baguette together. The sound excites her inner thief. Ready for the heist, Bill sneaked up on the table, ready to grab the tickets and dart away. Suddenly, a little boy blurted, Surprised at the sudden adoration, Molly watched as the mother handed him a box containing a gift certificate for the local toy store, with an excited smile. It's my son's birthday present! He is going to love it! Molly returned the smile, a bit thrown off. Here you go, love. Quid pro quo. Bill glanced behind him at Molly, his face twisted with confusion. Quid pro quo? She winked again. We’re getting the tickets, my friend. Bill slowly turned back toward the table and watched as a family friend pulled out their phone, beginning a recording of the event, all Jeremy Bieber impersonator's fault. He proceeds to belt out "Believer" in front of the entire gathering. Bill smiled begrudgingly, knowing they had to be a bit more discrete for this one. Molly sighed, the boy's mother looked at her, demanding an answer about the boy's raffle ticket. On it, she said, scooting closer, before stealing a few desserts they couldn't get their hands on. Meanwhile, one by one, Bill would sneak tickets into his pocket, avoiding sudden glances to mimic normality. They both exited the event a spark in their hearts, a bashful laugh on their lips, carrying back a delightful haul. As they shook hands and handed in their tickets at the venue's exit booth, Molly glanced at Bill, and together they took in their stolen treasures and full stomachs, knowing they pulled off the ultimate children's party crime. But as they drove off into the night together, Page 2 of 2 mindful of the laughter remaining just out of reach, they couldn't help but ponder. Would anyone remember the stolen presents at all? Who cares for stolen gifts without joy? The minds of the thieves drifted to what truly made a party magical - the smiles on the kids' faces