Molly peered around the corner, clutching a plastic bag filled with glitter and some neon glow sticks. “Bill, are you sure about this? The kids’ party is supposed to be in the backyard, but I swear I saw a security camera earlier.” Bill adjusted his oversized baseball cap and grinned. “Relax, Mol. We’ve pulled off way crazier heists. Besides, all those presents? They’re practically begging to be stolen. Think of the chaos!” Molly rolled her eyes. “Chaos isn’t exactly our style. Remember last time? We got caught because I tripped over the inflatable bounce house.” Bill chuckled. “Ah, that was hilarious! Anyway, tonight, no bounce houses. Just us, the loot, and a bunch of sugar-crazed kids. Piece of cake.” She shook her head. “Okay, but what’s the plan? How do we get in without the kid future scientists or unicorn princesses raising the alarm?” Bill pointed discreetly at the backyard fence. “There’s a gap in the fence near the ‘DIY Face Painting’ station. I saw it when I was scouting earlier. We squeeze through there and avoid the main gate.” Molly frowned. “And the security camera? You said you saw one?” “I did, but it’s focused on the driveway. I’ve got a trick for that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny mirror. “We just angle this and — boom — reflection loop. Blinds it for a few minutes.” “Nice,” Molly said, eyeing the mirror. “And then what? Do we storm the table with the cupcakes or go straight for the presents?” Bill grinned. “Presents first, distractions second. The cupcakes are just a bonus. Okay, so here’s the plan: I’ll crawl through the gap, cut across the yard, distract the birthday clown—what’s his name, Sgt. Giggles?—and then you sneak over to the table.” “Wait, I thought I was supposed to be the distraction,” Molly said, crossing her arms. Bill winked. “You’re the brains, Mol. I’ll make the opening. Once I’m in, I’ll grab the biggest presents, stuff ’em in the bag, no problem. You keep an eye out for the bouncy castle patrols.” “Bouncy castle patrols?” Molly snorted. “You mean those inflatable guards that somehow block all the exits?” “Exactly! They’re more like giant trampoline custodians,” Bill said. “But don’t worry, I’ve got a noise distraction device.” He pulled out a small kazoo and handed it to her. “Just blow this three times if you need help. Easy.” Molly looked skeptical. “That’s your ‘distraction device’? A kazoo?” Bill shrugged. “Works better than you think. Just blow it loud and rude, and everyone’s attention goes to the noise.” Before she could protest, Bill crouched down. “Ready?” “Barely,” Molly muttered, glancing at the party in full swing. “Okay, let’s do this before the cake gets cut.” Bill dove through the gap, disappearing into the shadows. Molly took a deep breath, adjusted her glove, and prepared to follow. “Remember,” she whispered to herself. “Steal the presents, no cake. Stay quiet, stay sharp.” She looked around one last time, then slipped through the fence after him, her heart pounding with a strange mix of excitement and absurdity. Behind her, young voices erupted in giggles and squeals, unaware of the chaos about to unfold. As she made her way across the yard, she clutched her bag tightly. This was going to be one ridiculous—and surprisingly fun—heist.