The flickering neon of "Sparkle & Pop Party Palace" cast garish shadows on Molly’s determined face. She was crouched behind a particularly aggressive-looking plastic flamingo lawn ornament, a silhouette against the saccharine glow. “You’re sure about this, Molly?” Bill whispered, his voice raspy like a poorly maintained brake pad. He was peering out from behind a slightly less aggressive, but equally plastic, smiling ice cream cone. “Stealing from kiddies? This feels… unseemly.” Molly snorted, a sound that startled a nearby garden gnome. “Unseemly? Bill, you once tried to pay for a getaway car with a bag of expired Pez dispensers. ‘Unseemly’ left the building when you joined the team.” She gestured with a slim, gloved finger towards the brightly lit windows of the Party Palace. “Look at the bounty, my friend. Untold treasures. The loot of a thousand wishes.” Bill squinted. “That looks like a lot of glitter. And those seem to be… stuffed animals.” “The *ultimate* stuffed animals, Bill! Imported, artisanal, limited edition. The kind that make dentists weep with envy at the potential for candy revenue. And don’t forget the iPads. I heard Mrs. Bumblebottom is getting her little Timmy the latest whiz-bang tablet, the one that plays doomscrolling lullabies.” “Doomscrolling lullabies?” Bill shuddered. “That’s just… cruel.” “Exactly. We’re performing a public service, Bill. Rescuing these poor, over-indulged brats from a future of digital apathy and sugar-induced psychosis. Besides, my rent is due, and my landlord has a particularly nasty fondness for collecting ornamental garden gnomes. The more he has, the less inclined he is to ask about my late payments. It’s a strategic acquisition.” Bill adjusted his beanie, which was straining valiantly to contain his perpetually startled hair. “So, what’s the plan, then? We just waltz in and ask for the presents?” “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re professionals, Bill. This requires finesse. Sophistication. A touch of theatricality.” Molly produced a small, brightly colored helium balloon from her utility belt. “Phase one: Distraction. I’m going to ‘accidentally’ let this go inside. It’ll float up, create a moment of wonder. While they’re all looking up, you, my dear Bill, will be sliding through the ventilation shaft. Like a… a sparkly, beanie-wearing ferret.” Bill’s eyes widened to an alarming degree. “Ventilation shaft? Molly, I’m built more like a slightly deflated beach ball. And I’m pretty sure that shaft leads directly into the bouncy castle.” “Minor operational detail,” Molly waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll improvise. The important thing is, you get to the present stash. I’ll have the getaway scooters parked by the back exit disguised as… you know, normal scooters. Until they’re not.” “Getaway scooters?” Bill’s voice rose an octave. “You didn’t mention getaway scooters.” “It’s a new addition to the standard heist kit. Much more environmentally friendly than a V8. Now, keep your eyes on the prize, Bill. Remember the gnomes. For the gnomes.” Molly winked, and then, with a surprising burst of speed, she was scampering towards the Party Palace entrance, the lone balloon bobbing jauntily in her wake. Bill, muttering about bouncy castles and the moral implications of pilfering puppy-shaped slippers, reluctantly followed, his gaze fixed on the shimmering, glitter-laden windows.