Molly adjusted the binoculars, scanning the backyard of the suburban home where the epicenter of chaos, a.k.a. a six-year-old's birthday party, was about to erupt. Bill, lounging against the fence, popped another Cheeto into his mouth, the artificial cheese dust a stark contrast to the innocent scene before them. "Alright, so we've got a window of exactly twenty-seven minutes once the piñata is broken," Molly said, her voice low and even, a stark contrast to the caffeinated excitement buzzing through her veins. Bill crunched down on another snack, unfazed. "That's assuming the kid doesn't decided to prolong the suffering by refusing to hit it. I mean, have you seen the size of that thing? It's like they're trying to torture the little guy." Molly rolled her eyes. "Focus, Bill. We need to be in and out. Presents, only. No distractions." "Oh, come on, Mols. A few distractions never hurt anyone. Remember the Smithson's diamond heist? The part where I—" "The part where you got us stuck in the air duct for three hours? No, Bill, I don't recall that fondly. Stay on track," Molly interjected, her gaze never leaving the party preparations. "Fine, spoilsport. So, we grab the gifts. What's the estimate looking like for the haul?" Bill inquired, wiping orange fingers on his jeans. Molly's lips twisted into a sly smile. "If the guest list holds true, we're looking at a minimum of fifty presents, averaging about twenty bucks each. Not bad for a Saturday afternoon's work." Bill let out a low whistle. "Not bad at all. Though, have you considered the moral implications of stealing from a bunch of six-year-olds?" Molly shot him a sideways glance. "You're kidding, right? We're not here for the therapy, Bill. We're here for the loot. Besides, it's not like we're stealing their lollipops or something... oh wait, we totally should. Those are like, what, five bucks a pop now?" Bill chuckled, the sound weaving into the distant hum of children's laughter and the thump of a bounce house in the backyard. "You're a genius, Mols. Loot and lollipops, the makings of a legendary heist." As the first guests began to arrive, Molly stashed the binoculars and stood, brushing off her jeans. "Let's get into position. Remember, in, out, no getting sentimental over the teddy bears." "Scout's honor," Bill replied, holding up a hand in mock solemnity, before they both slipped away, blending into the shadows, their eyes fixed on the rainbow-colored chaos that was about to become their playground.