Feather light footsteps padded across the dew-speckled grass as Molly pressed herself against the clown-shaped mailbox. On the lawn, a bouncy castle leaned drunkenly, windows festooned with streamers and, tantalizingly, a mountain of colorfully wrapped boxes by the patio door. Bill crouched beside her, his face painted into a crooked mustache from their earlier balloon animal debacle. The high-pitched shriek of a six-year-old rang out, making Bill flinch. “Did you bring the distraction?” Molly whispered, eyeing the grim-faced face painter lumbering across the yard, surrounded by hungry-eyed toddlers. “Three stink bombs and the leftover bubble mix,” Bill muttered, producing them from his backpack. He glanced at the presents, desperation glinting in his eyes. He added, “Reckon tiny humans can be bribed with lollipops?” “Bribed? They’ll eat your hand first.” Molly smirked, adjusting her party hat, feigning innocence. “We wait until the cake. It’s always chaos with cake.” Children streaked past, chasing a dog in a tutu. Bill sighed. “If we wind up with icing on our trousers again, this is your fault.” Molly grinned, counting balloons. “Shush. Follow my lead. Presents galore await.” As the party erupted in “Happy Birthday,” the thieves crept toward the mountain of loot, hearts pounding, eyes glittering with mischief.