Molly crouched behind the rainbow-painted fence, her black ski mask making her look like a deranged birthday clown. She peered through a gap in the wooden slats at the chaos unfolding in the Henderson backyard. Twenty sugar-fueled seven-year-olds ran screaming between inflatable bouncy castles while their exhausted parents clutched coffee cups like lifelines. "This is it, Bill," she whispered. "The mother lode." Bill adjusted his matching ski mask and squinted at the towering mountain of wrapped presents positioned near the picnic table. Gold ribbons caught the afternoon sunlight, and he could practically smell the expensive electronics hidden beneath layers of cartoon wrapping paper. "Are you absolutely certain this is worth the risk?" he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It's broad daylight, and there's like forty witnesses." "Look at that pile," Molly hissed, pointing through the fence. "That's easily three grand worth of toys. Plus, they're all distracted by that terrifying clown making balloon animals." Indeed, a performer in full costume was twisting rubber into questionable shapes while children shrieked with either delight or terror. Bill couldn't tell which. The plan was simple enough. Wait for the kids to migrate toward the cake cutting ceremony, then slip through the back gate and grab as many presents as possible before anyone noticed. What could possibly go wrong? "Remember," Molly said, pulling on latex gloves, "we're looking for the heavy boxes. Electronics, gaming systems, expensive stuff." "What about that enormous purple package?" Bill pointed to a gift roughly the size of a washing machine. "Too conspicuous. We need to be surgical about this." A whistle shrieked from inside the yard, followed by an adult voice shouting about cake time. Like iron filings drawn to a magnet, every child in the vicinity stampeded toward the house. "That's our cue," Molly said. They slipped through the gate with surprising grace for two people dressed like discount ninjas. The present pile loomed before them, an oasis of criminal opportunity in a desert of children's birthday decorations. Bill grabbed a promising rectangular package while Molly stuffed smaller boxes into her oversized duffel bag. The efficiency was remarkable until Bill knocked over a precarious tower of gifts, sending them cascading across the lawn like colorful dominoes. "Smooth," Molly muttered. "Did someone just scream?" Bill froze mid-grab. Both thieves turned toward the house where a chorus of children's voices had reached fever pitch. But it wasn't discovery that caused the commotion. Through the sliding glass door, they could see the birthday boy having what appeared to be an epic meltdown over candle placement. "False alarm," Molly said. "Keep grabbing." They worked frantically, stuffing their bags with wrapped treasures while keeping one eye on the house. Victory was within reach when the sprinkler system suddenly activated, drenching them both in ice-cold water and turning their stealth mission into a slapstick disaster.