Night draped the suburban street in shadows as Molly crouched behind a neatly trimmed hedge. The distant laughter of children drifted through a window. Bill tiptoed beside her, balancing a duffel bag and a rubber chicken. They exchanged glances, excitement crackling between them. "Ready for the greatest pediatric plunder of all time?" asked Molly. Bill whispered back as he fluffed a polka dot wig. "If we don't end up in the backyard with tigers, I'm calling it a wash." Molly rolled her eyes. The rubber chicken almost squeaked from nervous pressure. "Boss, we need disguises that scream party staff." Bill tapped his chin, peering through the window. Streamers fluttered over a cake table. "Clowns are too obvious. Maybe we hire a magician and melt faces?" Molly tapped a finger against her lip. She grinned, imagining dry ice and mysterious smoke. "Or balloon animals. They'd never suspect a duck shaped like a swan could scowl." Bill raised an eyebrow. "You keep talking art. We just need to grab the gifts while kids chase the magician." A distant horn honked, reminding them of the time they escaped with a tank. "Artsy heist, or tactical? Honestly, I prefer cake commando style." Clouds drifted overhead as they inched toward the side window of the family room. "Remember plan alpha: finger puppet diversion." Molly nodded, activating a tiny finger puppet on her hand. The blue mouse squeaked ominously. "Hello children! I'm Mr. Floppy Ears and I have secrets." She waved the mouse puppet dramatically. A few curious toddlers peered over the cake table. Bill whispered, "Now, Molly! Bags!" They flooded the living room with stealth, scooping stacks of colorfully wrapped boxes into their duffels. "We're rich in sugar and shiny paper!" Laughter suddenly rang out behind them. A tall mother blocked the hallway, arms crossed. "Excuse me! Who are you supposed to be?" Bill gulped, hiding a clown nose behind his back. "We're... um, entertainment specialists." Molly tugged her sleeve, offering the chicken. "Is that a chicken? For me?" The mother hesitated, then reached out to accept the squeaky gift. "You two can stay! Any chance you do puppet shows too?" Molly and Bill exchanged a wild look. The duffel bags bulged dangerously with gifts. "Yes! Puppet magician hybrid!" They followed the mother into the party space, puppets and magic at the ready. Gravity was on holiday. "Here we go, Bill! First, grab the cupcakes while I distract the toddlers with my finger mouse. Then we dash to the gift mountain at the back corner. If the piñata guard shows up, I'll charm him into wearing this tutu over his uniform. You sprint for red packages, I'll handle gold ones. Remember no shame—this is gift acquisition excellence. After that, we puppeteer our way through cake frosting to the exit. When the parents find nothing but empty boxes, they will marvel at the Greatest Magician Chicken Show Ever witnessed. Just wink and click that rubber chicken as our triumphant saber, and victory is ours!"