In the dim warehouse behind the broken bakery, Molly spread the map across a metal table. She tapped a bright red X at the Smith house gate. Bill knelt nearby, anxiously fiddling with his clown nose and jingling a handful of party favors. He squinted at the X and excitedly swallowed. They’d chosen this suburban block for its dozens of birthday parties every weekend—each house brimming with new toys. And neighbors often display expensive gadgets on window sills. Tonight they’d raid the biggest haul yet. Molly glanced at the roster of six parties in a single cul-de-sac. Two clowns, one untraceable getaway car, and maybe a sugar coma emergency plan. Bill clicked his tongue. The Smith party matched their alibi: hired entertainers for an adults-only BBQ next door. Zero suspicion, maximum loot. They moved into position by the swing set mock-up in the back yard. Molly lashed a grappling hook to her belt and winked at Bill. Molly: "Okay Bill, time to recap Operation Gift Grab. In fifteen minutes we storm through the back gate." Bill: "Got it—clown wigs on, squeaky shoes at the ready, and a giant net for gift wrangling." Molly: "We distract kids with balloon animals, then scoop up every wrapped box before the parents even notice." Bill: "What about the cake? We can’t have little sugar monsters chasing us down the street." Molly: "Cake is non-negotiable. I’ve arranged a decoy cupcake tower to buy us thirty seconds tops." Bill: "Brilliant. And the guard dog? Last time he nearly tore off my pant leg." Molly: "Fido’s busy chasing laser pointers in the garage. My cousin Steve rigged an auto-laser distractor." Bill: "Okay. What’s our extraction route once the loot is secured? I want to avoid clown traffic jams." Molly: "We exit through the dog door, slide across Mrs. Jenkins’ azalea bush, and vanish into the hedge maze." Bill: "Perfect. Have you double-checked the gift count? I calculated sixty-three presents, including three giant teddy bears." Molly: "Yes, and I padded it by five—just in case the birthday girl receives an emergency helium exchange." Bill: "Wish I’d thought of that latex strategy. Smart move. Ready for plan B if police car arrives?" Molly: "Plan B: deploy the giant rubber chicken alarm. Everyone flees, we grab gifts, job done in two ticks." Bill: "Excellent. And what about Timmy’s new drone? That thing buzzes like a mosquito on caffeine." Molly: "Let’s talk equipment. I’ve loaded extra-grease spray for the doorknob and extinguish spray for candle fires." Bill: "Spray on standby. Also miniature flashbang cupcakes—nonlethal, extremely startling. Warning: may cause temporary clown panic." Molly: "Because nothing beats the sugar-fueled chaos of a children’s party. Best distraction known to thieves." Bill: "All right. Ninety seconds until showtime. Clown shoes on, party horns ready, hearts set to mischief mode." Molly: "Let’s do this. May the gift fairies forgive us, and may the sugar hangover be merciful." Bill: "Here we go—Operation Gift Grab starts now. Stay sharp, stay silly, and don’t trip over clown shoes."