Molly crouched behind a bush just outside the sliding glass door of the Johnson residence, clutching a crumpled invitation. Bill paced nervously beside her, eyes darting to the glowing lights inside where laughter and the chaos of a children's party spilled out. "Okay, remind me again why we're robbing a kids' party?" Bill whispered, tugging at his too-tight black gloves. Molly shot him a glare. "Because, Bill, who expects two grown thieves to crash a party full of sugar-fueled kiddos? It's the perfect cover." "And they're just going to hand over the presents? What's the plan, ask politely?" Bill smirked. Molly tapped the invitation. "No, genius. I'm talking about the gift table. They’re all piled up in the living room by the couch. We grab the loot, sneak out before anyone notices." Bill squinted around the corner. "Have you SEEN the chaos in there? Balloons everywhere, toddlers running wild... We’re going to trip over a plastic sword or something and face-plant in front of fifty kids." "That's why we wear masks," Molly said, pulling a domino mask from her pocket and handing him one. Bill took it reluctantly. "Yeah, so we look like two weird adults trying to blend in. Real subtle." "Subtlety is overrated at a children's party. We just need speed and a quick exit," Molly declared. She peeked through the window. "Alright, Bill. You create a distraction by the balloons. I’ll slip inside and snag the presents." "And how exactly do you want me to create a distraction? Start a conga line? Pretend I’m a clown who forgot their act?" Bill raised an eyebrow. Molly grinned. "Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Kids love clowns. You make a scene, or at least get their attention, I grab the gifts, and we bolt." Bill put on the mask, making a face. "You realize I look less like a clown and more like a raccoon that’s been on the wrong side of the fence, right?" "I’ll think that’s charming. Just don’t get hit by a flying cupcake or tackled by a five-year-old." Bill shuffled his feet, peering at the party again. "Alright, raccoon-me, ready to cause chaos. What if a kid gets suspicious?" "Then you pull out the birthday song with jazz hands. No one can resist the birthday song," Molly said confidently. Bill snorted. "You really think jazz hands will distract a pack of sugar-high ninjas?" "Trust me. Now go pop those balloons. I’m in." He nodded and crept toward the colorful balloon arch near the door. Moments later, a loud *POP!* echoed, and Bill let out a ridiculous honking noise, waving his hands wildly. "Guys! The balloons are attacking!" Bill shouted, only slightly muffled by the mask. Inside, the kids paused, some giggling, others pointing at the “clown.” Molly seized the moment, sliding through the door and heading straight for the gift pile. Gifts in hand, she almost tripped on a plastic sword, but caught herself. From the corner, Bill continued his antics—bouncing, honking, flailing—as toddlers surrounded him, delighting in the unexpected clown. "Bill, hurry up!" Molly whispered, stuffing presents into her bag. "Got your back, Molly! Here comes the tickle monster!" Bill declared, lunging playfully at a group of giggling kids. Molly shook her head but couldn't help smiling as she zipped the bag closed. "Okay, let's get out before birthday cake turns into siege weapons." Bill grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the sliding door. "On three. One, two—Oh no, Timmy’s coming with a cupcake grenade." "Run!" Molly shrieked. They burst outside, laughter trailing behind them as the party resumed its joyful chaos. "See? Best heist ever," Molly said, panting. Bill grinned. "Next time, we rob a library. Less sugar, fewer carpet ninjas." Molly laughed. "Deal. But only if you promise to keep the jazz hands ready."