Molly peered through the cracked window of the suburban house. “Bill, are you sure about this? A children’s birthday party? Seems... sticky.” Bill, crouched behind the rose bushes, grinned like a kid in a candy store. “Sticky? Molly, it’s a goldmine! Mountains of presents, wrapping paper everywhere—chaos. Chaos is good.” “Chaos is good for pirates, maybe. But what exactly is our escape plan when the sugar-fueled five-year-olds spot us?” Bill flipped a shiny toy sword to his other hand. “I’ll charm the kids with my impeccable sword skills. Then, under cover of sack races and pinatas, we snag the loot.” Molly groaned. “You’re treating this like some swashbuckling school play. What if someone calls the cops? Or worse, the parents?” “Relax. These parents are busy. Between trying to control a sugar rush and untangling a piñata mishap, no one will notice us slipping out with the goods.” Molly folded her arms. “Alright, so you’re the distractor. What do I do?” “You, my dear, are the package ninja. Quiet and quick, you grab the gifts stacked by the fireplace. Then we rendezvous outside at my mom’s minivan.” “The minivan?” Bill nodded proudly. “The least suspicious vehicle in the neighborhood. Perfect getaway car.” Molly forced a smile. “Great. Nothing screams ‘professional thief’ like a minivan.” Bill winked. “Exactly. We blend in by standing out... ironically.” She sighed, looking back at the house. “How do we even get inside? The front door is guarded by a toddler with a party hat and a plastic sword.” “That toddler is today’s guardian of the presents,” Bill said with mock respect. “I’ll negotiate safe passage with my sword and charm.” “Right. Meanwhile, I’ll slip through the back. Maybe distract the dog with a squeaky toy.” She paused. “Wait, do you even have a squeaky toy?” Bill dug through his jacket and produced a bright pink rubber chicken. “Close enough.” Molly stared at it, unimpressed. “You’re using a rubber chicken on a dog?” “Dog’s a dog, Molly. They don’t ask questions. They just chase and chew.” Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek pierced the evening air. “Party’s starting!” Molly peeked inside. “Look at this chaos. Balloons, confetti, kids running wild... Are we sure we want in on this madness?” Bill grinned wider. “No messing about now! Remember: distraction, extraction, escape.” “Okay, but if I get covered in glitter or end up pulling a sugar-crazed kid off me, we’re renegotiating pay.” Bill clapped his hands. “Deal. Now go ninja-mode. I’m sword-wielding negotiator here.” Molly moved toward the side gate. “You just hope no kid wakes up in the middle of our heist and starts screaming ‘thief!’” Bill shrugged. “If they do, we’ll just blame it on the piñata hitting its head.” Molly paused and looked back. “Only you would come up with a plan involving a piñata concussion.” Bill saluted with the toy sword. “Professionalism in every swing.” Molly rolled her eyes, disappearing around the corner. “Alright, Captain Sword, let’s see if your plan holds up against the sugar army.” Bill adjusted his toy sword and followed, ready to charm his way through the wildest party in town. “After all, no birthday bash ever defeated Bill and Molly.” Molly’s distant voice called out. “Famous last words, buddy.” And with that, the two unlikely thieves dove headfirst into the craziest heist of their careers—a children’s party, presents, and a rubber chicken as their secret weapon.