Night. Molly and Bill crouch behind a hedge overlooking a backyard lit by string lights. Giggling children echo from inside. “Bill, did you remember the grappling hook?” “Yes, tucked in my sock. But do kids ever use grappling hooks?” “Only when there’s cake on the roof.” “We need stealth, not birthday-cake-acrobatics.” “Right, use the inflatable unicorn for cover.” “I can’t believe we’re using a unicorn inflator for a heist.” “It’s the disguise.” “What disguise?” “Clowns.” “Great idea. Who doesn’t trust a clown with balloons?” “Children, apparently.” “They’re busy tearing wrapping paper. We strike at maximum chaos.” “Then vanish in a cloud of confetti?” “Exactly.” “What about the parents?” “Distract them with balloon animals shaped like tiny sharks.” “Impressive and terrifying. They’ll run screaming.” “Perfect exit plan.” “Molly, do you have the present sacks?” “Velcro reinforced, heavy duty.” “Nice. No jingles to give us away?” “I muffled every sound with plush teddy bears.” “Solid.” “Timing? Perfect.” “Three minutes before the piñata smash.” “They’ll be too busy swinging blindfolded.” “Then we glide in, heist completed.” “Best children’s party smash and grab ever.” “What’s our getaway vehicle?” “A stolen ice cream truck with a broken horn.” “Brilliant. They’ll never suspect our slow heist.”