Night had fallen over the cul-de-sac, washing the houses in soft purple shadows. A gaggle of party guests spilled onto the driveway, laughter echoing from windows where balloons bobbed against fairy-lights. Beneath a hydrangea bush two figures huddled in black catsuits. Molly checked her watch and uncapped a slim LED flashlight, its beam trembling across the manicured lawn. Molly: "Bill, here’s the plan: you distract the host with the unicorn piñata while I slip in through the back door, grab the glittery presents." Bill’s eyebrows shot up under his mask as he tested the handle of a playhouse wedged against a garage wall. A squeal of delighted children drifted on the night air. They had three minutes before cake time. Bill stuffed a party horn into his belt loop and gave Molly a thumbs-up signal, though neither could risk a grin. Bill: "Three minutes, got it. After piñata chaos I’ll smoke them out with my faux-ice cream cart—complete with confetti cannon and pounce on any stragglers." Molly slipped forward, hugging tall hydrangeas as she moved toward the back porch light. She felt like a ninja: silent except for the hitch of her breath. Every rustle sent her heart pulsing. Somewhere inside party tents, a piñata-swinger squeaked. A gust rattled the fairy-lights like wind chimes warning of a cat burglar’s approach. Molly: "Focus, Bill, focus! After you trigger that confetti blast, I’ll glide in wearing the chocolate cake disguise. The kids will think I’m just frosting." From his vantage point near the balloon arch, Bill rummaged in his backpack for the smoke machine. It whistled when he opened the valve, but after a few puffs of steam it settled into a plume. He could now see Molly’s silhouette edging across the porch. The spotlight illuminated wallpaper, turning the yard into a carnival of shadows. Bill: "Deploying smoke in three, two, one—go! Remember, grab all the shiny packages first, then head for the goodie bags. No detours to juice boxes." A sudden roar of tiny cheers erupted as Bill hit the valve, bathing the yard in a sweet-smelling cloud of pink mist. Parents turned with alarmed expressions while toddlers squealed, swiping cake from each other. Molly eased through the back door, its lock undone by her slender pick. She paused at the threshold and inhaled the sugary chaos, feeling glee buzz in her fingertips. Molly: "I’m in! The loot’s under the tree wrap station. I see teddy-bear bags and one clearly large, shiny unicorn-stickered box waiting to be swiped." Bill followed Molly’s signal, blowing a triumphant blast through his party horn. He advanced, picking up two bright gift-wrapped parcels and tucking them beneath his jacket. A child’s squeal split the air, and both thieves froze, hearts pounding like timpani. Then a dog barked in the distance, sending them scrambling back to the hydrangeas without guilt. Bill: "Hurry, Molly, time’s up! Toss me the parcels by the hydrangea bush, then we vanish into the night like candy-coated ghosts before anyone notices."