Under the pale moonlight, Molly and Bill crouched behind a row of inflatable pink flamingos. Molly: "Kids love surprises; keep quiet, we grab paper and go." Bill: "Stealth mode activated, hand me the glitter bomb." Laughter floated through an open window where dozens of children chased streamers. Molly balanced on one sneaker, clutching a duffel bag. Bill fiddled with a tangle of party hats, whispering to himself while the scent of cake drifted over the hedge. No grown-ups hovered, distracted by glitter glue stations and a magician pulling rubber chickens from a hat. The gate squeaked as Molly gave it a push; Bill tensed. Despite the absurdity of stealing birthday loot, both dreamed of the thrill. Molly sniffed the air, eyeing a tower of presents wrapped in neon paper. Crickets chirped as Bill peeked into the yard to confirm the coast was clear. A dog barked in the distance. Heartbeats thundered in their chests. Timing was everything. Molly signaled with a tilt of her head. Bill grinned behind a scissors heist kit. Moments later, they slipped through the gate like mischievous shadows, determined to make off with the gift pile before the next round of pinata hammers shattered their cover.