In the dim glow of the backyard, Molly crouched behind a bush, eyes glued to the brightly decorated party tent. Bill tiptoed beside her, clutching a paper bag full of assorted tools. "Alright, Bill, here’s the plan," Molly whispered, glancing at the glowing balloons. "We slip past the bouncy house, grab the gifts, and vanish before anyone notices." Bill nodded eagerly. "Easy peasy. But what if Jimmy the Clown blocks the door? That guy’s creepier than a road trip with grandma." Molly smirked. "Then we distract him. I’ve got a squeaky clown nose. You can pretend to be a very serious clown with an urgent message." He grinned. "Perfect. I’ll charm him with my dance moves—hope he's into the Macarena." She rolled her eyes. "Just remember, no splitting up. We grab everything in one go, then dash to the getaway bike." Bill adjusted his cap. "Got it. Can’t wait to see the looks on those kiddies’ faces when their "presents" are gone." Molly chuckled softly. "They’ll never know what hit ‘em. Now, on three—one, two…" Together, they edged closer, ready to become the sneakiest, most ridiculous burglars the neighborhood had ever seen.