In the dim glow of a streetlamp, Molly and Bill crouched behind an overflowing trash bin outside the brightly decorated house. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and giggles from the party seeped out through the open windows. Molly pulled out a crumpled blueprint she’d sketched on a napkin. “Alright, Bill, here’s the plan: we slip inside through the kitchen window, grab the sacks, and make a swift exit.” She tapped her pencil on her chin. “No one’s watching the backyard yet.” Bill squinted at the map, scratching his head. “But what if the clown starts juggling and blocks the door? Or the fire-eater catches a flame?” “Relax. The fire-eater’s just an inflatable. Looks real, though, huh?” Molly grinned. “Once we’re in, we’ll have the whole stack of presents in no time. No parents, no security cameras—just us and a mountain of toys.” Bill chuckled. “And what’s the backup plan if the dog catches us?” “Simple,” Molly said, eyes twinkling. “We bribe him with a treat. Or maybe trade Jack-in-the-box for a peace offering.” She paused, looking up at the house. “Let’s do this before the kids start singing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the fifth time.” Bill nodded. “Right behind you, partner.”