Molly adjusted her black cat-themed ski mask, giving a final once-over to the small, suburban house before they made their move. "Alright, Bill, you got the kids distracted with the piñata and the cake, while I get into the actual presents." Bill nodded, his beady eyes shining with excitement behind his own ski mask. "I've got the sprinklers set to cut the outdoor lights, and I'm ready to move on the lawn gnomes when I spot an opening. You the cake lady, yeah?" Molly smiled, a small, wicked grin spreading across her face. "The mastermind of the operation, that's me. Just put on a show, Bill. I'll get to work on the high priority: the strollers and the bouncy castles. We can sell those for a tidy profit on the black market." Bill let out a low whistle. "You're something else, Molly. You think we're gonna fly under the radar with all those giant, flashing balloons?" "Darling, they're just there to blind the parents. We'll be long gone before anyone even notices we're here. Besides, I've got my eyes on the highlight of the party: the Nerf gun. That's where the real magic happens. You know, I saw a YouTube tutorial once on how to properly deface a toy gun. We'll be selling them for scrap metal... or whatever kids these days call it." Bill chuckled, his low rumble making Molly giggle. "Easy for you to say, Moll. You've never actually broken into a party before. Well, not one this big, anyway." "It's quality over quantity, Bill. The high-stakes heists are what make the art of thievery truly worth it. Now, get the kids fired up, and I'll take care of the loot." As Bill strode confidently into the fray, Molly slipped around to the back, making a mental note to look for any useful distractions – glitter bomb in the craft station or a batch of hopped-up juice boxes to create an emergency soda-eplosion. She opened the window, her eyes scanning the room for the promised stash of presents. The plastic-framed picture frames would make for an easy score, and the Lego sets would be worth a pretty penny on the reg'trademark bazaar. She ducked inside, quiet on the paws as the music and chatter swirled around her. The Christmas decorations cast a crimson glow over the party scene, and Molly felt like a bandit escaping into a Victorian-era fairy tale. She spotted the neatly wrapped gifts, set haphazardly together like offerings to the night.