Night settled over Maple Drive as Molly checked her wristwatch. Bill paced in a too-large clown costume, bright red hair bouncing with each step. The hum of children's laughter drifted through the window. Bill: “You sure this door’s unlocked?” Molly: “It’s a kid’s party. They forget everything.” Bill: “Including their presents?” Molly: “Exactly.” Bill eased the door open. They slipped inside, crouching behind a row of plastic chairs. Bill: “Whoa, the cake smells like nuclear frosting.” Molly: “Don’t eat it. We’re here for gifts.” Bill: “Right. The loot.” They crawled toward a table piled with wrapped boxes and stuffed animals. A group of toddlers chased a piñata in the far corner. Molly: “Piñata’s a distraction. We move now.” Bill: “I’m not great at distractions.” Molly: “Stick to stuffing the sack.” Bill pressed a finger to his lips. They reached the table. Molly rifled through ribbons. Bill: “Look at this one—‘To Johnny, Love Grandma’.” Molly: “Grandma’s not getting it back.” Bill: “He’s gonna cry.” Molly: “That’s why we need silence.” She popped open a gift bag and dropped toys inside. Bill piled boxes nearby. Bill: “Wait—what’s that noise?” Molly: “Just Harold the toddler stomping around.” Harold toddled toward them, gummy bear in hand. Molly grabbed a balloon animal from Bill’s costume. Molly: “Here, giant toddler. Balloon sword.” Bill: “He’s going to stab us.” Molly: “Trust me.” Harold toddled off. Bill exhaled. Bill: “That was close.” Molly: “Keep moving.” They filled a duffel bag. Molly held a plush unicorn. Bill: “Best haul ever.” Molly: “Smile.” A face-painted child wandered by, holding a cupcake. Bill (whispering): “Do we snatch the cupcake?” Molly: “If we end up eating evidence, go for it.” They scooped up the last box wrapped in metallic paper. A party parent called for games. Molly: “Time to go.” Bill: “Should we disable the music?” Molly: “Drop the remote in the punch bowl later.” They backed toward the door. A balloon drifted between them. Molly kicked it aside. Bill: “Exit stage left?” Molly: “Exit stage left.” They slipped out into the night, duffel bag heavy with stolen joy. Inside, giggles and singing continued uninterrupted. The door clicked shut behind them. Bill: “That felt too easy.” Molly: “Easy is good. Easy is untraceable.” Bill: “Next time—” Molly: “There’s always next time.” They melted into the shadows, leaving behind happy chaos and half-eaten cake. The children never noticed their presents had vanished.