Bill perched on the rickety stool, binoculars trained on the suburban house across the street. Pink balloons bobbed against a cloudless sky, tied to the mailbox. A hand-painted banner reading "HAPPY 8TH BIRTHDAY MADISON!" fluttered in the gentle breeze. "There it is," Bill whispered, lowering the binoculars. "The mother lode." Molly snatched the binoculars, elbowing Bill aside. "Let me see." "Careful! These are expensive." "You got them from a cereal box," Molly scoffed, adjusting the focus. "Look at all those cars. Must be at least fifteen kids in there." "Fifteen kids means thirty presents minimum," Bill said, rubbing his hands together. "Parents, grandparents, weird uncles... we're looking at a treasure trove." Molly handed back the binoculars. "I still think this is low, even for us." "Low? It's brilliant! Nobody suspects the birthday party. While they're all singing and eating cake, we slip in through the back, raid the gift table, and disappear. Clean, simple, profitable." "They're children's toys, Bill." "Premium children's toys. You know what an L.O.L. Surprise doll costs these days? Thirty bucks! And that's the cheap stuff. Rich kids get tablets, video games, collectibles..." "Speaking of collectibles," Molly said, tapping her watch, "don't forget the Pokémon cards. Those things can be worth serious money." Bill's eyes widened. "You think there'll be Pokémon cards?" "For an eight-year-old in this neighborhood? Absolutely." "Alright, so here's the plan. Party starts at three. Cake is usually served an hour in, which means everyone will be in the kitchen or dining room around four." Bill pulled out a crude drawing of the house. "We enter through this side gate, pick the lock on the sliding door—" "Wait," Molly interrupted, "what if someone catches us?" "We're the clowns." "The what now?" Bill reached behind the seat and pulled out two garish wigs and red noses. "The entertainment." "You can't be serious." "Dead serious. If anyone asks, we say we got the time wrong. We were supposed to arrive after cake." Molly stared at him. "Because nothing says 'innocent' like two adults caught sneaking around a children's party." "You got a better idea?" "Yeah. The gift drop-off strategy. We dress nice, carry a wrapped present, walk straight to the gift table like we belong there. Then we grab as many boxes as we can carry and say we're helping move them somewhere safe from sticky fingers." Bill looked impressed. "That's... actually smart." "I know. That's why I'm the brains of this operation." "What present are we bringing?" Molly grinned. "An empty box. Wrapped in this." She pulled out holographic paper with unicorns on it. "Perfect," Bill nodded appreciatively. "What time should we move in?" "Three-thirty. Early enough that they're still greeting guests, late enough that the table is loaded." "Molly, this might be our finest heist yet." "Bill, it's a children's birthday party." "Exactly! No security systems, no guard dogs, just soccer moms and party hats." Molly sighed. "Let's just get this over with."