The rusty van hid in the shadows of the abandoned parking lot. Molly and Bill huddled near the back door, poring over the party invitation emblazoned with pastel rainbows and cartoon unicorns. "So, you're sure this is the place?" Bill asked, his brow furrowed. "I mean, it's a kid's birthday party. That's a new low, even for us." Molly grinned, her green eyes gleaming with mischief. "Think about it, Bill. Tons of presents, and they're all in one room. What could be easier?" Bill frowned. "But what about the kids? Aren't they going to freak out when they see us coming in with ski masks and crow bars?" "Don't worry," Molly reassured him. "I got Chloroform-scented bubble soap. They'll just think it was part of the party fun." Bill looked unconvinced. "You know, we really need to work on our methods." Molly stood up, pulling her mask over her face. "Look, we've got the invitation, the guest list, everything. All we have to do is walk in and start handing out presents. When the parents are distracted, we switch them out with ours." "Feasible," Bill admitted. "But what if someone checks the presents? Won't they notice all the return receipts are addressed to us?" "Details," Molly scoffed. She pushed open the door, the peppering of disco music flooding in. "Let's just move. My present radar is tingling." Crouching behind the parked car, they watched the foam bouncy obstacle course bristling with kids in day-glow birthday hats. Molly's violet eyes squinted on the garage door, planning the entry vector. "Remember," she whispered. "Aim for the wrapped presents, avoid anything elderly or hideously expensive-looking. Oh, and if anyone asks, we are 'Cousin Bob and Cousin Carol'." "I feel a brazen-type thievery vibe," Bill noted. "There is no vibe," Molly growled. "It's just you two are going to start nicking the birthday loot, okay? Nobody happy?" Bill groaned, shaking his head. "I liked you better when you just swiped old takew away menus, you know." They sprinted towards the garage, their black-tinted safety helmets bobbing in unison. Peppy prosecco framed them like manic astonishment flags.