Molly twisted the handle of the plastic backdoor to the rented community hall, tugging on it with all her might, even as Bill's deep chuckle echoed behind her. Bill: "You wouldn't believe how childproof these things are, Molly. Careful, you'll break it. I'd hate for the owner to catch us breaking and entering." Molly: "Oh, Bill, give me a break. Jeez, this thing is as stubborn as a two-year-old." A sharp twist and a muffled click had the door swinging open, great clouds of steam from the hot summer day billowing outward as she stepped inside. The place was abuzz with high-pitched squeals of delight, melding with ecstatic shouts of the adults. The stage teemed with children, their eyes glued to the face-painting artist. Molly: "Look, Bill, they're all fawning over Mister Muggles' faces. Our strike is gonna be even easier than you thought." Bill waved a hand dismissively. "Just as I said. The weakest security in the world. Some people would rather trust a man in a terrible bear costume than a four-digit code." Molly: "Great. Now we just need to make our move. The parents are clock-watching, hoping to beat the meltdowns when the party ends." The two thieves scanned the room, Molly biting her lip as she contemplated, before gesturing at the gazillion beaming children. "Just say, what if one of them follows us to the presents?" Bill: "Oh, my dear Molly. I've got that covered. Some leftover candyfloss, well-timed, and they'll backtrack right to us—and be too involved in sugar madness by the time they realize we're AWOL." Molly grinned, her green eyes alight. "Dotey's distraction and we swipe the loot. How? Carry baskets or duffel bags?" Bill gave a loud, exaggerated exhale. "Carry? I bought this slick little trolley. It fits enough for our haul and can move like Lightning McQueen." Molly's jaw dropped, her eyes shining, as she arched a brow. "Really? Didn't know you were that thoughtful, Bill." Bill: "Nah. Just wanting this to be an easy breezy heist, with Dad's forgiving the missing loot by blaming the Tooth Fairy. Now, let's get to work. Premium whiskey once this is done, Molly. To your position." Molly hastened to join Dotey, flashing a "mom-smile" that could melt an iceberg. In no time, she distributed candyfloss, engaging the youngsters with a talent only a mother of three could possess. Bill scoped the trolley, its wheels smooth and silenced, in the storeroom. He made his way back. Next, they locked eyes, signaling their readiness. Molly began the dance-along at full throttle, swiveling her hips with enthusiasm. The children swooped in, the parents nowhere in sight. Taking the cue, Bill rolled the trolley out, right into the heart of the hall, concealed behind the mob of gyrating preschoolers. He loaded present after present into the trolley. Squeals of glee and giggles covered the sounds of the paper-tear. Molly sidled up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Almost done, Bill? I got eyes till—" Someone called her name. Molly spun, her heart racing, favoring the parents trickling back in. "Oh, Bill, time's up!" Bill: "Go, Molly, go. We've got everything. Everyone's too busy to notice as long as you keep this gig going. Quickly, now!" He directed her back to the entranced children. Molly hollered over the thumping music, "Everyone, it's time for our grand finale! The conga line to the trolley." The innocent tots followed, shepherded like lambs to the slaughter. Bill swiftly maneuvered the booty the way he maneuvered the purchase of the trolley, without a hitch. Rolling the loot out of the party and into the sweltering sun, he caught up to the meandering conga line. Molly, with a glint of accomplishment in her eyes, waved to the parents, oblivious to her miraculous prize. Molly: "I swear, this is too smooth, Bill. G'wan, let's go. The getaway car's waiting, right?" Bill: "Oh, you bet. You drive the double swerve, while I load the goods, and then like old times, we'll be off before they can even call the cops." As the trolley clanked against the getaway car's back doors, the parents gathered around the empty trolley, fingers pointing the blame at no one. Molly revved the engine, ever-so-casually pulling out of sight, leaving behind a party in shambles. Elsewhere, the two thieves clinked their beers, the premium whiskey waiting until they've enjoyed this pint. Molly: "Next target, Bill? A class reunion at a gender revel party? Or a wedding with infuriating place cards?" Bill harrumphed, grinning. "How about a fancy prize-giving at a dog show? You love the animal crowd." Molly rolled her eyes, smiling. "Deal. Here's to easy breezy heists with lots of distraction and even more loot."