Molly and Bill crouched behind a rhododendron near a lit suburban driveway. A gaggle of children trickled out the front door laughing while balloons bobbed in the summer breeze. Wrapped packages of colorful paper and glittered bows littered the lawn like candy. The hum of chatter drifted from an open door. Over the din the thieves consulted a crumpled plan. Bill whispered, "I have the layout and floor plan ready. We slip in through the side entrance, dodge the clown, grab the bags, quietly and smoothly, and vanish effortlessly before anyone notices." Molly knelt, smoothing out a crudely drawn map illuminated by a single flashlight. The party spilled through the backyard of the ranch house. A table heaved under a mountain of gift bags. Bill tapped the roofline, tracing a careful path from the gutter. He eyed the misfiring security light timer. Molly whispered, "I checked the latch hidden under the threshold. Once the door clicks, we slip past the clown and head straight for the pile of brightly wrapped loot without a sound." They slipped through the side gate, avoiding squeaky hinges that might alert suspicious siblings. Molly’s black gloves brushed against a plastic flamingo in the garden, but she kept moving. Shadows danced across lawn ornaments as they neared the sliding door. Bill eased the latch. The glass clicked and the slide swung open into a swirl of confetti and eaten cupcakes. Bill grinned in the dark and muttered, "Perfect entry. Now go left to the loot table. I will circle back and watch the door. If someone comes, give the whistle. That just buys us maybe two minutes." Molly ducked under a swinging banner. Her heart pounded as she tiptoed past a ring of tiny suspicious toddlers. Balancing a heap of small cylinders, she inched toward the gift table. Bill signaled from behind the cake stand, frosting eclipsed his camouflage. A dad in a sombrero laughed loud. The thieves froze quietly as he wandered with a chip bowl. Molly hissed softly, "Bill hurry and shift that big red box by the back wall. It looks stuffed and weighs a ton. It could be the jackpot. I will grab everything small with sparkles or superhero stickers and take advantage of chaos. The parents are distracted by a watermelon eating contest. We have seconds left before they realize our gift heist." Bill nodded softly and replied, "Got it." Molly leaped forward, snagging the box with a triumphant grin as Bill padded around the table, tossing glittered parcels over his shoulder like confetti. Their bags bulged with heavy bounty. A sudden squeak from the gate jolted them both into a frozen stance. Then they sidestepped a rolling soccer ball. In one coordinated shuffle, they abandoned crumbs and mud prints and slipped into the waiting van. Exhausted but elated, they high fived, counting their stolen spoils under the red glow of a single taillight. Bill slammed the sliding door shut as distant cheers and rustling gift wrap echoed down the street.