Molly adjusted her oversized sunglasses, gazing out at the sea of miniature superheroes and princesses as they chased each other around the backyard. The sign above the bounce house read "Happy 6th Birthday, Timmy!" in glittery letters, and the smell of sugary cake and desperation wafted through the air. "I don't know, Bill," Molly said, her voice low as she nudged him with her elbow. "Are we really going to steal from a bunch of six-year-olds?" "Hey, they're not going to miss the presents," Bill replied, leaning back against the fence as he surveyed the scene before them. "Their parents will just write it off as some kind of minor party catastrophe. 'Oh no, little Timmy, it looks like the Birthday Fairy forgot your presents!' Meanwhile, we're off with a stash of Pokémon cards and a new Nintendo Switch." "I guess that's true," Molly said, her brow furrowed. "But what about all the, I don't know, emotional trauma?" "Trauma? This is a kids' party, Molls," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "These little rascals are tougher than you think. They'll survive the great Present Heist of 2024." "I suppose," Molly said, though she still looked unconvinced. "Listen, our intel is solid. Timmy's parents have buckled down and splurged on some serious swag for this party," Bill said, holding up his phone to show Molly the posts from the party's private Facebook page. "There's a Stormtrooper helmet, a Limited Edition gaming laptop, the whole nine yards. This could be our big score, Molls." Molly sighed, running a hand through her dark hair as she watched a gang of kids attempting to "accidentally" jump the fence into the neighbor's yard. "Okay, I'm in. When do we make our move?" "How about during Pin the Tail on the Donkey?" Bill suggested, grinning mischievously. "All the parents will be busy pretending to be good sports, and the kids will be too distracted to notice us swiping the goods." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You really have thought of everything, haven't you?" Bill shrugged, still grinning. "I like to be prepared. Okay, here's the plan: once the donkey-games commence, we slip in through the side gate, snag the presents, and we're outta here." Molly nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement mixed with a little bit of uncertainty. "And then...we make our getaway in the Neon Party Van of Doom?" Bill chuckled, shouldering a homemade grappling hook out of his windbreaker. "You know it, Molls. Time to get this present party started." As Molly watched, Bill sprang into action, swinging his grappling hook over the fence and scrambled up the side of the house. She snorted, trailing after him. This was going to be a wild ride.