Molly crouched behind the inflatable castle, her breath clouding in the chilly backyard air. Balloons bobbed in the slight wind, and the distant sound of children laughing seeped through the fence. Bill fiddled nervously with a set of lockpicks, his eyes darting toward the house. "You sure this is the plan?" Bill whispered, glancing around like the neighbor’s cat might suddenly join the stakeout. "Absolutely. Think about it—tons of presents, zero security, sugar-fueled chaos. It’s a dream heist," Molly said, grinning with excitement. She peeked through the window blinds, seeing kids forming a conga line. "Look at those little party animals. They won't even notice if we snag a few gift bags." Bill raised an eyebrow. "A few? Molly, you mean all. You said it yourself—party chaos, minimal watching." "Exactly. Plus, Mrs. Jenkins is too busy yelling at the kids to even register anyone else’s presence," Molly replied, noting the frazzled party hostess struggling to extinguish a cupcake fire. "Now, what we’re going to need first is a distraction." Bill groaned. "Distraction? Last time you said that, I ended up dressed as a clown, mid-heist." Molly’s smile widened. "This time, no clowns. I have a better idea. You know that giant piñata hanging over there?" Bill squinted toward the colorful, overstuffed donkey-shaped thing swaying slightly in the breeze. "Yeah…" "I say we give it a little… nudge. Kids will go crazy. In the chaos, we snag the loot." Bill paused. "Molly, how exactly do you 'nudge' a piñata without attracting everyone's attention, especially the grown-ups?" "Easy. You and I trigger the motion sensors on the garden fountain. That’ll startle the kids, they’ll run outside, and while the adults are distracted fixing the fountain, you stealth-wreck the piñata." Bill scratched his head. "Stealth-wreck? That’s a new one." "Destruction with style," Molly winked. "Now, about gear—" Bill interrupted, "Question. Where do you plan to stash the presents? It’s a party, but no getaway car in the driveway." Molly chuckled softly. "We improvise. The laundry basket in the garage. Less glamorous than a van, I know, but hey, it’s got wheels." Bill shook his head, smiling despite himself. "You’re unbelievable." "Professional status, thank you very much." Bill glanced once more toward the door. "Alright, so we trigger the fountain, wreck the piñata, scoop the presents, and roll out in a laundry basket. What if Mrs. Jenkins catches us?" Molly shrugged. "If she does, I’ll distract her with some cake. You’re going to love my crumb escape routine." Bill laughed. "You’ve really thought this through. I hate to admit it, but this might just work." Molly grabbed a handful of jelly beans from the picnic table. "Working with me isn’t just a job, Bill—it’s a lifestyle choice. Besides, if we pull this off, ice cream at Tony’s for a week. My treat." "Now you’re speaking my language," Bill said, pocketing the lockpicks. As the sound of children’s footsteps grew closer, Molly whispered, "On my mark… three, two, one…" Bill flicked the switch on the fountain’s timer, water spurting to life with an unexpected roar. Children screamed and scattered. "Go! Go! Go!" Molly hissed, already moving toward the garage with a grin that suggested candy-fueled victory. Bill followed, ready for the chaotic, ridiculous, possibly sticky job of stealing birthday presents one sugar rush at a time.