Molly crouched behind the hedge, eyeing the brightly decorated yard strung up with balloons and streamers. "Bill, are you sure about this? It’s just a kids’ party. What’s the point of stealing the presents?" Bill grinned, adjusting his oversized fake mustache. "Molly, my dear, it’s not just about the presents. It’s about the thrill. The challenge. Plus, imagine the look on those little faces when they wake up to find their toys gone. Pure chaos." She rolled her eyes. "You’re horrible. Besides, how do you propose we get in unnoticed?" He tugged a fingerless glove over his hand. "Easy. We enter through the side fence, which I’ve already scouted. No one’s watching the back because the party's in front. I’ve mapped the route—" "Hold up," Molly interrupted. "You’ve actually mapped this out? You’re acting like some kind of criminal mastermind." Bill chuckled. "Come on, Molly. You know I’ve got skills. We just need to move quickly. The party’s in full swing, right? Kids are distracted, parents too busy playing pin the tail, maybe knocking back a few sodas." She smirked. "Yeah, and I bet their eyes aren’t glued to the fence line, huh?" "Exactly. Now, here’s the plan,” Bill said, pointing a finger like a professor. "We sneak in through the gate when the clown is preoccupied with a kid. You grab my bag—" "My backpack? What about it?" "It’s got the tools—weapons of the trade, Molly. Think of it as a gift bag for the loot." "I thought it was your lunch bag," she teased. "Very funny. Now, once inside, we head straight for the table with the presents. No detours—grab, run, and exit before anyone notices." Molly gave him a doubtful look. "And what about the kids? Won’t they cry or get upset if their toys are gone?" Bill shrugged. "They’ll never know. Besides, it’s a small price to pay for the legendary thrill of the heist. It’s a game, Molly. Lighthearted, even." She crossed her arms. "You’re way too into this." "That’s because I’m a criminal genius." He paused dramatically. "Now, here’s the tricky part: we need to fake being part of the crowd." "Fake being a clown?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "Exactly. I’ll put on the wig and face paint, you can be the sneaky sidekick. No one will suspect us." Molly snorted. "I’d rather not look like a clown." "Oh, come on. Think of the possibilities! Clown hair, oversized shoes—it’ll be hilarious." She sighed, reluctant but amused. "Okay, but if I end up looking like a cotton candy explosion, I’m blaming you." "Deal. Now, time’s ticking. The kids are getting restless, and the parents are about to start singing ‘Happy Birthday’ again." Molly peeked over the hedge one last time. "Alright. Let’s do this before I change my mind." Bill reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled napkin. "Here’s the signal. When you see the clown beginning his act, that’s our cue." Molly nodded sharply. "Got it. Just remember, no one gets hurt, and no one gets suspicious." Bill winked. "Relax, Molly. We’re just two harmless kids… with a very naughty plan." They exchanged a conspiratorial glance, then crept out from behind the hedge, blending into the throng of party attendees as they prepared to execute the most mischievous, ridiculous heist of their careers.