A rainy evening blankets the suburban street where Molly and Bill crouch behind a hedge. Sparklers from birthday candles glimmer through living-room windows. The house is draped in balloons and streamers. Through a front window they see a long table piled high with brightly wrapped gifts. A dozen children run in circles around a piñata shaped like a dinosaur. The parents chatter animatedly while the host juggles plates of cupcakes. A distant police siren fades in and out, adding to the tension. Molly checks her wristband timer; the alarm will sound in ten minutes. Their prize lies just inside the door. Molly adjusts her oversized clown nose. The inflatable clown shoe in Bill’s bag bounces slightly. They both suppress nervous giggles. The wind rustles a cat at their feet. Shadows of party games flicker across the sidewalk. Bill: "You got the list of presents, right?" Molly: "Got it memorized. Lego sets, art kits, that giant teddy bear." Bill: "Focus on the expensive stuff. That glittery spaceship toy is jackpot." Molly: "Why do we even need art kits? Glue sticks aren’t exactly priceless." Bill: "Don’t question the client. He’s allergic to disappointment." Molly: "Speaking of allergies, did you remember the cat diversion?" Bill: "Yes, Mittens is primed to cause maximum hysteria in three... two... one..." Molly: "Okay. Door’s unlocked. I see no parents near the hallway." Bill: "You distract with balloon animals; I’ll snag the loot." Molly: "Balloon animals? We’re clowns now? Since when?" Bill: "Since you convinced me you could twist a balloon into a swan." Molly: "Professionalism in our field demands versatility." Bill: "Just stay hush. The cupcakes make great bribes if someone spots us." Molly: "Got it. Cupcakes as distraction: plan B is powdered sugar explosion." Bill: "Careful, that might alert the dogs next door." Molly: "Good point. Let’s keep dog noises to a minimum." Bill: "You copy? I’m through the doorway, creeping left by the gift table." Molly: "I’m inflating the clown costume nose—this might take a second." Bill: "Less is more. We need stealth, not a marching band." Molly: "Band? You auditioned for trumpet in high school for stage cred." Bill: "Only to protest the trumpet’s squeal. Nobody needs that at a party." Molly: "Alright. I’m in position. Table’s within arm’s reach." Bill: "On three. One... two..." Molly: "Three!" Bill: "Grab the gold-wrapped box and that glitter rocket launcher." Molly: "Got them both. Quick, stash them in the shoe bag." Bill: "We’re halfway. Children are approaching from the hallway." Molly: "Time for distraction! Watch me juggle cupcakes." Bill: "Cupcakes? This is madness!" Molly: "Any more ideas?" Bill: "Here comes Dad. Deploy the sugar bomb!" Molly: "Powdered sugar ready!" Bill: "Go!" Bill: "Nice throw! That sugar cloud will confuse everyone." Molly: "I’m making a run for the exit—gifts in tow." Bill: "Wait, I see the birthday boy unwrapping something heart-shaped." Molly: "We don't have time for sentiment. It's chocolate in a heart box." Bill: "Chocolate’s in my pocket. Gate’s clear for extraction." Molly: "Extraction? We’re not gold miners. We need stealth." Bill: "Stealth is the new thievery." They vanish into the night, pockets full and hearts racing. Moonlight glints on the surveillance camera.