Molly surveyed the backyard from behind a canvas of overhanging tree limbs. Strings of pastel balloons bobbed gently in the evening breeze, illuminating a chaotic scene of tiny dancers and sugar-fueled energy. She signaled Bill with a subtle nod. He crouched beside her, adjusting a pair of oversized sunglasses that served no practical purpose but boosted confidence. The flimsy white picket fence creaked as Bill tested its latch. Beyond it, colorful paper lanterns and crepe paper streamers fluttered above a gauntlet of lawn games and crayon-scribbled stations. At the center, a long folding table under a striped canopy held rows of neatly wrapped presents, their ribbons gleaming under strings of twinkling lights. Molly whispered, "Shh. Do you see the table loaded with gifts? The star-shaped piñata isn't going anywhere until we grab that stack of wrapped boxes." Bill grinned and replied, "Relax. I've got the perfect distraction. Watch this." Bill released the fence quietly and stepped through. He gave Molly two thumbs up before blowing on his hands theatrically. He marched into the party circle, where a cluster of sugar-charged children eyed him curiously. Molly stayed hidden near the fence, peering anxiously. Bill shouted, "Hey kids! Who wants a free magic show?" Molly giggled, "Brilliant. While they're distracted by card tricks, we sneak in and swipe everything." Children gathered as Bill raised a deck of cards. Quick flicks, shuffling sounds, and a flourish later produced an ace of hearts from thin air. Giggles erupted. While the audience focused on the makeshift stage, Molly slipped through the gate like a shadow. Bill whispered, "Just grab the loot, and don’t look at tiny faces. Chocolate frosting fingerprints are a killer." Molly groaned, "Chocolate frosting fingerprints? I left the wipes in the car again." She remained low and silent, gliding across the grass toward the prize table. Fifteen wrapped boxes waited as its crown jewels. Under the canopy she paused, heart hammering, as a stray beam of light danced on metallic paper. She scanned for witnesses, relieved to find none. Bill shrugged, "Then improvise. Use napkins or your sleeve." Molly grinned, "Fine. We’ll moonwalk out with loot under capes." Bill resumed the show by pulling scarves from an empty sleeve, his voice booming as he declared each colorful length. Children giggled and pointed. A circle formed, effectively blocking the path between Molly and the fence. She grasped the first gift, tucking it beneath her jacket. Bill laughed softly, "And exit through the confetti-filled piñata. We’ll bag it later." Molly whispered urgently, "What about the chaperones? We need an eye in the crowd." Bill smirked, "I recruited Cousin Eddie. He blends with toddlers and hogs balloons." Molly sighed, "Let’s hope he doesn’t eat the loot instead of delivering it." Bill winked, "If he does, we’ll rescue the bags from his belly." Two vigilant parents lingered nearby, but Molly counted seconds until they returned to snack. She scooped up every gift, jamming the largest box under Bill’s arm as he guided her out. Together they slipped back through the fence with hearts pounding. Under moonlight, they dumped the wrapped treasures onto a tarp. Giddy, they hauled the pile toward their getaway van. Molly chuckled, "You're terrible, Bill."