Bill adjusted his oversized rainbow wig while crouched behind Mrs. Henderson's prized rose bushes. Through the kitchen window, he could see dozens of wrapped presents stacked on the dining room table like a miniature Mount Everest of birthday loot. His partner Molly emerged from behind the garden shed wearing a polka-dot jumpsuit that made her look like a demented circus performer. The backyard buzzed with sugar-fueled chaos. Eight-year-olds shrieked with delight as they chased each other around a bounce house that wheezed ominously with each jump. Parents clustered near the refreshment table, desperately gulping coffee and checking their phones for escape routes. "The clown just arrived," Molly whispered, pointing at a man in enormous shoes struggling to squeeze through the back gate while juggling rubber chickens. Bill nodded grimly. "Perfect timing for our entrance." A piñata shaped like a unicorn swayed menacingly from the oak tree, waiting to be beaten senseless by tiny fists wielding plastic bats. The birthday girl, identifiable by her glittery tiara, commanded her party kingdom from atop the picnic table. Bill checked his fake mustache one final time. The greatest heist of their careers was about to begin.