"I don't know, Molly," Bill whispered as they crouched behind a bush. "Stealing presents from a children's party?" "Think of it this way," Molly replied, adjusting her ski mask. "We're teaching them valuable life lessons—like how to deal with disappointment and loss." Bill shook his head. "I still feel like the Grinch." "Don't be ridiculous. The Grinch stole Christmas, not birthday presents." "What's our plan of attack?" Molly pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Step one: distract the clown. Two: sneak in through the kitchen. Three: grab the presents. And four: slip out unnoticed." "Why do I feel like step four is the hardest?" "Because you're a pessimist, Bill. Now, let's get this show on the road." Bill sighed. "Alright, but if we get caught, I'm blaming you." "Fair enough. On the count of three... One... Two... Three!" They bolted from their hiding spot, hoping the giggles and squeals of delighted children would drown out their footsteps. They just needed to stick to the plan—but with a dozen sugar-fueled kids running around, that was easier said than done.