Molly crouched behind an inflatable castle wall, surveying a party full of sugar-fueled mayhem. Balloons danced above glittered hats. She clutched her crowbar like a conductor’s baton. Across the yard Bill crouched by a stack of gleaming gift boxes. He adjusted his night vision goggles with exaggerated care. The DJ thundered a polka remix. Nearby, toddlers performed a conga line around a table of cupcakes. She and Bill wore matching lederhosen, wigs a size too small. Nobody noticed two thieves plotting under colorful streamers. A birthday song blared just as they exchanged silent nods. Tonight’s loot was finally within reach. "Molly: The cake distraction is set. Kids flock around frosting." "Bill: Good. You hit the clown with the cream pie at minute two. I’ll grab the big bags." "Molly: What about the toddlers? They might squeal." "Bill: Feed them lollipops. They’ll follow sugar to the backyard." "Molly: Then we scoop the presents and vanish in the fog machine smoke." "Bill: Grab all ribbons and stuff them in duffels. No strip of wrapping stays behind." "Molly: Got it. DJ has our hack queued to play our exit tune." "Bill: Two minutes to landing zone. Countdown starts… now." "Molly: Then we go."