Under the flicker of a lonely streetlamp, Molly and Bill crouched behind a trash bin outside the Wilson residence. Faint strains of the birthday march drifted through open windows, tangled with bursts of children’s laughter. Molly checked her wristwatch: nine forty-seven. The showstopper cake was cooling on the kitchen island. A dozen colorfully wrapped gifts sat piled on a long table by the far wall, almost painful to behold. Bill fastened the grappling hook to his belt and squinted upward at the slightly ajar upstairs window. Tonight’s haul was simple: in through the window, snag as many presents as possible, out before the magician announced the rabbit reveal. It sounded easy over stale coffee two weeks ago. Now it felt like juggling chainsaws. Their hearts thumped in unison, adrenaline spiking. Side by side, they rose from the shadows, ready to transform from meek party crashers to gift-grabbing legends. Icons at dawn. Molly: "Bill, did you remember the glitter bombs? I need sparkle diversion in aisle three." Bill: "I did. But I also remembered your last 'sparkle diversion' set off the sprinklers. I still smell like unicorn juice." Molly: "That was vintage. Now focus: main objective is the ginormous teddy bear in gold wrapping paper." Bill: "You mean the one shaped like a porcine with a top hat? It looks ridiculous but worth a fortune on eBay." Molly: "Exactly. We grab that first, then scoop up the rest. Quick in, quick out. I have feather boas if we need disguise." Bill: "Feather boas at a kids party? We'll look like discount flamenco performers. Why not clown wigs?" Molly: "Clown wigs clash with the boas. We're masterminds, not fashion victims. Besides, kids love princesses." Bill: "Fine. Princess tiaras then. Should we keep voice modulators ready for sneaky whispers?" Molly: "Only if you promise to stop narrating our lives in movie-trailer voice." Bill: "No promises. It's how I cope with stress. Now, you have the sticky gloves?" Molly: "In my coat pocket, right next to the baton of fake spider webs. Just in case." Bill: "Good. Remember the rule: no accidental party games. We break in silently—no pinatas." Molly: "No promises. I have a tradition of smashing spherical objects. But tonight is professional." Bill: "Copy that. Once we’re inside, you head left toward the gift table. I’ll handle the cake distraction." Molly: "You're using a flashing LED cake cutter again? Last time you nearly chopped a balloon artist’s foot." Bill: "Practice makes perfect. This blade is souvenir safe. No real edges." Molly: "Should we practice our stealth whispers one more time just in case?" Bill: "Sure, but if we whisper too much we’ll forget the cues and trip alarm." Molly: "Bedtime bandits. You in?" Molly: "All right, Houdini. Let’s do this. In three, two, one..." Bill: "On my mark—" Molly: "Bill?" Bill: "Yeah?" Molly: "Did you remember the getaway ride?" Bill: "I thought you rented the unicycles." Molly: "I rented tandem bikes." Bill: "We’re in for a slow pedal to freedom, aren’t we?"