The air hung thick and sweet with the smell of sugar and desperation. Molly perched precariously on the crumbling garden wall, peering over into a rainbow-colored war zone. Children, hopped up on sugar and competitive spirit, were engaged in a vicious game of pass the parcel that looked more like a rugby scrum. Parents, their faces a mixture of feigned amusement and impending migraines, sipped lukewarm punch and made polite conversation that sounded suspiciously like negotiations for a hostage exchange. “Target in sight, Bill. And I gotta say, it’s a massacre in there.” Molly pulled out a pair of miniature binoculars, the kind you’d find in a Christmas cracker, and surveyed the scene. “They’ve got a bouncy castle, a clown making balloon animals that look suspiciously anatomically correct, and enough sugary treats to fuel a small nation. This little rugrat is raking it in.” Bill, his considerable bulk awkwardly wedged behind a rather cheerful-looking gnome statue, grunted in response. “Any sign of the loot?” Molly lowered the binoculars, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Oh, it’s there alright. Piled up like a miniature Fort Knox, guarded by a pack of rabid toddlers. I haven’t seen this much wrapping paper since, well, since that Christmas Eve heist at the mall.” “Alright, stick to the plan. We create a diversion, you snatch and grab, and we’re out. In and out, just like we practiced.” Molly raised an eyebrow. “You mean like we practiced with that bouncy castle in that abandoned playground? Because last I checked, navigating a collapsing inflatable castle while being pelted with stale popcorn by pigeons isn’t exactly the same as dodging sugar-crazed eight-year-olds.” “Look, it’s the principle of the thing,” Bill huffed, pushing himself off the gnome with a grunt. “Besides, how hard can it be?” Molly snorted. “Bill, darling, this is a children’s birthday party. We’re talking about tiny humans who haven’t developed any concept of personal space, volume control, or bladder control for that matter. This,” she gestured wildly at the chaotic scene before them, “is our Everest.” “Fine, but if you get distracted by the cake pops, I’m leaving you to the mercy of the piñata.” Molly shot him a withering look. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”