Molly and Bill crouched behind a row of hedges, peeking through the leaves at the chaos unfolding in the backyard. Bright balloons bobbed in the air, and tiny humans zoomed around like wind-up toys on a sugar rush. "This has got to be the easiest job ever. Like taking candy from a baby," Molly whispered, eyes glinting with mischief. "Don't you mean 'presents from kindergartners?'" Bill chuckled. "But seriously, what kind of parents let the gifts pile up like that?" "Amateurs," Molly snorted. "They've got them in plain sight just waiting for us." "What's the plan, mastermind?" Molly adjusted her cap. "You know the clown that's supposed to start his act in ten minutes?" "The one who looks like he crawled out of a horror movie?" "Exactly. I bribed him to take an extended coffee break." Bill raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought clowns were beyond bribery." "Money talks," Molly replied, shrugging. "And apparently, this one talks a lot." "So, we swoop in, grab the loot, and make a dash. What about the kids? They'll notice Santa's haul missing, won't they?" "That's why I borrowed cousin Tony's bubble machine. Kids love bubbles; it should keep them distracted." "Bubbles, huh? Nice. But what if one of them decides Tommy the Turtle is more interesting than imaginary floating spheres?" Molly sighed. "I don't know, Bill. Inflate a balloon or something. You wanted action. I'm delivering action." "Fine, fine. Just checking. And what's our escape route?" "The alley behind the house. Easy out, remember?" Bill nodded, clutching his backpack. "I still can't believe we're stooping to stealing from a kid's party." "Hey, toys are like gold in the black market. Ever since that collector’s story blew up, everyone wants them." "I suppose. But couldn't we, you know, steal Picassos or something?" "Keep your beret on, Bill. Not everything's about high art." "Alright, alright. When do we start?" "Five minutes," Molly said, glancing at her watch. "Remember, be cool. Channel your inner ninja." "I'm wearing cargo shorts, Mol. Best I can do is blend in with a dad squad.” Molly snickered, adjusting her gloves. "Use it to your advantage. Act like you're just here to embarrass your imaginary kid." "They'll never suspect a thing," Bill said, winking. From behind the hedge, they watched as the clown announced a delayed performance, blaming traffic. The children groaned, but seconds later, the bubble machine whirred to life. Shouts of joy erupted, proving Molly was right. "And that's our cue," Molly said, slinking out from the bushes. Bill followed her lead, casually strolling up to the gift table. They worked quickly, stuffing bright boxes and bags into their backpacks. "Feels too easy," Bill murmured, keeping one eye on the bubble-entranced crowd. "Don't jinx it," Molly hissed, grabbing the last package. It had Ninja Turtles wrapping paper. As they edged back toward the exit, a kid spotted them, pointing a chubby finger. "Hey! Those aren't your presents!" Molly and Bill froze, exchanging panicked glances. Bill shrugged, smiling. "Eh, just keeping them safe from ninjas. Back to your bubbles, buddy." The kid blinked, seemingly convinced, and returned to the fray as Molly and Bill slipped away into the shadows, laden with what felt like their most colorful haul yet.