Molly crouched behind the inflatable bounce house, peering through a gap in the bright pink plastic. The backyard was crowded with adults chatting, and kids darting around with sticky fingers and chocolate smeared faces. Balloons bobbed in the summer breeze, and a relentless pop song blared from a speaker near the picnic table. It was chaos, but not the kind of chaos most people would want to break into. For Molly and Bill, it was a goldmine. “We’ve got twenty minutes max before the cake comes out,” Molly whispered, pulling back the plastic just enough to glance at the gift table. Bill adjusted his baseball cap, trying to look inconspicuous as he slipped a latex glove on one hand. “So, twenty minutes to be Christmas elves, Santa’s little helpers, and professional burglars, all without getting caught.” Molly grinned. “You’re the best at looking inconspicuous. Remember last Thanksgiving?” “How could I forget? Grandpa’s turkey was epic,” Bill said with a smirk. “But this? This is different. Kids everywhere. Parents lurking like hawks. And the clown. Don’t forget the clown.” “The clown’s just a guy in a floppy wig and oversized shoes. How threatening can he be?” Molly said, though the twitch in Bill’s eye told her he wasn’t so sure. Bill glanced down at the gift table. Piled high were brightly wrapped boxes, all shiny paper and big bows—potentially hundreds of dollars worth of untouched birthday loot. “You think these folks mentioned security cameras?” Molly shook her head. “Nah. It’s a backyard party, Bill, not Fort Knox. Just a couple of parents with smartphones. If we play it right, folks will think we’re part of the cleanup crew.” “You’re always the optimistic one,” Bill muttered, but he was already moving toward the opening in the balloon arch that led to the gift table. “Step one,” Molly whispered. “Distract the guests. You get the adults chatting. I’ll handle the presents.” Bill gave a low whistle. “And how exactly do you plan to distract a bunch of sugar-crazed toddlers and exhausted parents?” Molly pulled out a handful of cheap party favors from her pocket—plastic rings, miniature whistles, and sticker sheets. “With these. Everyone loves free stuff.” Bill shook his head. “You’re mad.” “I’m brilliant,” Molly corrected, slipping past a group of chattering moms. She tossed a handful of whistles near a cluster of kids. Instantly, shrieks of laughter erupted as the children eagerly grabbed for the toys. Bill seized the moment, scanning the table for the biggest, shiniest box. “Alright, captain distraction. I’m making the grab.” Molly’s eyes sparkled as she peeled the tape on a gift wrapped in sparkly blue paper. “Remember, slow and steady.” “I’m Bill, king of slow and steady,” he said, gingerly lifting a giant box wrapped in gold. Suddenly, a pudgy toddler with chocolate-smeared cheeks toddled over and tugged Bill’s pant leg. “Are you magic?” the child asked with wide eyes. Bill froze, heart pounding. “Uh... what?” Molly shot him a warning glance. “Play it cool.” Bill forced a smile. “Magic? Sure, buddy. Magic.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic ring. “Here. For you.” The kid’s face lit up, and he skittered back to the group. Molly laughed softly. “You’re a natural.” Bill grinned, setting the gift under his jacket. “Only practice is holding toddlers at bay.” “Five minutes left,” Molly said, her eyes darting toward the cake table. “We need to disappear before the sugar high causes a riot.” Bill nodded. “Ready for the exit dance?” Molly winked. “Follow my lead.” Together, they slipped through the throng of partygoers, their arms full of pilfered presents. Behind them, the chaos of birthday songs and excited squeals continued, oblivious to the quiet disappearance of their loot.