Molly and Bill crouched behind a row of hedges, eyes fixed on the brightly colored balloons bobbing in the breeze. “This is ridiculous,” Molly whispered, adjusting her ski mask. “Ridiculous genius,” Bill replied. “Think about it—who suspects thieves at a kid’s birthday party?” “Except, like, everyone?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “I mean, two adults without kids? It’s fishy, Bill.” “That’s why we’re the entertainment,” Bill said, flashing a fake badge. “Auntie Juggling, at your service.” “You can’t juggle,” Molly shot back, her tone flat. “Minor detail,” he shrugged. “How hard can it be?” Molly snorted. “The last time you juggled, you nearly beheaded a cat.” “Which is why I practiced. Why do you think I spent all week with those stuffed animals?” “Thought you’d finally lost it,” Molly muttered, peering over the hedge. “Besides,” Bill continued, unfazed, “it’s not like we’re stealing from kids. We’re liberating unwanted gifts.” “What if they are wanted?” Molly pressed. “Always the moral compass,” Bill sighed. “Think about it—those kids won’t even notice.” Molly hesitated. “If it goes wrong...” “Then we make a dash for the piñata. Distractions, Mol!” “Fine,” she relented. “Let’s liberate some gifts.” “That’s the spirit!” Bill grinned, pulling his mask down.