Molly squinted at the sprawling McMansion, her eyes tracing the banner slung across the front door that read "Happy 5th Birthday, Timmy!" in glittery letters. Beside her, Bill popped a nicotine gum into his mouth and blew a bubble. "I don't get it," he said. "We're stealing presents from a five-year-old. Is that, like, a thing?" Molly pulled on her gloves. "It's the principle of the thing. These rich kids don't appreciate what they have. It's all about the Benjamins, Bill." "Yeah, but have you seen the guest list? It's like a Who's Who of suburban royalty. I'm pretty sure we're going to get pinched before we even get to the cake." Molly winked at him. "Leave that to me." She pulled out a can of Silly String and gave it a few quick blasts. Bill's eyes lit up as a tornado of pink goo erupted from the can and wrapped itself around a nearby bush. Molly tucked the can into her pocket and grinned. "Now, let's get to work." They crept around the side of the house, searching for an open window. Inside, the sound of screaming children and thumping music drifted out into the evening air, mingling with the smell of sugary treats and greasy pizza. Molly's stomach growled. Maybe they'd grab a slice on their way out.