Molly crouched behind the hedge, her eyes fixed on the brightly decorated backyard bustling with balloons, streamers, and squealing children. She nudged Bill, who was fiddling nervously with a set of lockpicks. "Alright, Bill, here’s the plan," she whispered. "We slip in through the side gate, grab the presents, and get out before anyone notices." Bill looked up, eyebrows raised. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, stealing from a kids’ party? Feels kinda... wrong, doesn’t it?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Come on, Bill. It’s just a bunch of toys and cuddly stuffed animals. Plus, if we don’t do it now, someone else will. We’re talking about the confiscated presents from last Christmas left in the trunk of that neighbor’s broken-down car." He fidgeted, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’m in. So, what’s the first move?" "First, we wait for Mr. Jenkins to turn his back with the barbecue," Molly said, pointing subtly. "He’s munching on that mountain of ribs, oblivious. That’s our signal." Bill looked around at the gathering kids chasing each other around the yard, their parents chatting nearby. "And the kids? Won’t they notice if we start rummaging through the pile?" "Probably," Molly admitted. "That’s why we need to be quick. Once Mr. Jenkins is distracted—wait, here he comes with a tray of drinks—we move." Bill adjusted his baseball cap. "Alright, I’m ready. But tell me again, what’s the exact target?" Molly grinned mischievously. "All the presents under the big oak tree. The unicorn themed gift bag, the giant teddy bear, all the good stuff. The kids won’t miss them for, oh, I’d say… five minutes tops." He hesitated. "What if there's security or cameras?" Molly scoffed. "This is a backyard party, not Fort Knox. Besides, I brought duct tape, a flashlight, and my secret weapon—thanks to that YouTube video I watched." "Your secret weapon?" Bill leaned in, eyes narrowing. "Yeah. This," Molly said, pulling out a rubber chicken from her backpack. "Distracts the kids and maybe even the dog. Everyone loves a good silly chicken." Bill chuckled. "That’s your master plan? Duct tape and a rubber chicken?" "Hey, it’s foolproof," Molly said confidently. "We sneak in, grab the presents, and ghost out like Halloween burglars." He looked hesitant, then shrugged. "Okay, okay. Let’s do it. So, I sneak along the fence, you go through the gate?" "Exactly," Molly whispered. "Remember, no loud noises, no sudden moves. We’re in and out in five minutes." They shuffled closer to the gate, Molly peering over the hedge. "And if anyone spots us?" Bill smirked. "Then I’ll blame the inflatable clown over there. Worst-case scenario, I trip over the hose and scream like a banshee." Molly rolled her eyes. "Real helpful, Bill. Just remember what we’re after." "Got it. Presents. Not kids' faces or cupcakes, right?" "Right," Molly said, pulling out her makeshift tools. "Ready?" Bill grinned. "Let’s do this." They moved cautiously, hearts pounding, feet barely making a sound—except for the occasional giggle of a nearby child or the distant bark of the backyard dog. As they approached the side gate, Molly took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing," she whispered. Bill nodded, clutching his lockpicks. "For the presents!" And with a flick and a click, the gate swung open. Molly slid inside, Bill close behind, their plan underway. The chaos of the children’s party spun around them like a manic carousel, and as they disappeared into the yard’s shadows, neither could help but smirk at the absurdity of their scheme.