Under the cool hum of the neighborhood streetlight, Molly and Bill unloaded their loot bag in front of their nondescript van. The night air smelled of leftover barbecue. Inside the van, they carried high-grade black backpacks stuffed with gadgetry: ninja ropes, smoke pellets, noise-makers, and a miniature soundboard. A lifesize inflatable unicorn lay folded on the seat. They checked their watches. On the other side of the hedged yard, the birthday party raged. Balloons bobbed, streamers twirled, and beyond the fence lay tables crowned by colorful wrapped presents. “All set, Bill? Tonight’s the big heist.” “Molly, we’ve been planning this for weeks. I’ve got the blueprint memorized.” Molly stepped back and surveyed her reflection in the van’s tinted window. She adjusted her black cap, making sure nothing betrayed her silhouette. Bill fumbled with a blueprint printed on pink paper—an embarrassing nod to his secret love of stationery. They studied the yard layout: entrance on the east side, sprinkler on the west, and a guard dog in the corner. “Kids won’t know what hit them.” “Let’s be honest, they’ll blame the clown for losing their gifts.” “You’re bringing a clown nose?” Bill retrieved a bright red nose from a plastic sack. Molly glared, but she had to admit it looked aerodynamic. The clown costume remained optional under hidden flaps in Bill’s pack. They mapped out their distraction sequence: stage the nose luring intruder, activate the soundboard, then slip through the gate under the confusion. “Absolutely. It’s my secret weapon.” “I prefer the Trojan piñata idea.” “That spiky candy dispenser will distract them for at least five minutes.” “There’s a code on the back of the present rack. I hacked their music playlist.” A cold breeze whispered through the trees as they approached the garden hedge. Molly scaled the green barrier like a trained ferret, while Bill handed over the smoke pellet. He clicked a button, casting a neon purple plume across the lawn. Screams of “Ooh!” and “Ahh!” collided with startled yelps as kids scattered amid floating balloons. “Once the conga line starts, we dash and nab everything.” “Got the ninja rope and smoke pellet ready?” “As ready as my grandma’s casserole.” The smoke curled around the tables, sending parents chasing dreams. Sweat formed on Molly’s forehead. She nodded at Bill, who locked onto the stacked gift boxes. The unicorn inflatable twitched in the fog. In seconds, the opportunity would arrive, and they’d stuff sacks with sugar-coated treasure before anyone realized. “This might be your luckiest night.” “As long as we don’t end up on a YouTube fail compilation.” “Remember, the faster we move, the fewer tantrums we face.” “Agreed. Let’s roll before someone invites the magician.” “Okay, on three: one, two, three!” “Now go retrieve the spoils.” They sprinted across the lawn, each step muffled by grass. Molly lunged for the biggest box, tearing through wrapping paper as Bill hauled an entire tower into his arms. Laughter and gasps rose around them, but they were already disappearing into the night with trophies in hand. Their hearts pounded in sync, adrenaline coursing through every vein. Victory never smelled so sweet.