The worn map sprawled across the dingy floor, lit by a single flickering bulb above. Molly traced a route with a grease-stained finger, her eyes narrowed in concentration. “Bouncy castle, check,” she muttered, tapping a spot near the center. “Three-tiered monstrosity of cake, check. A veritable buffet of discarded party favors, check.” Bill whistled, chewing thoughtfully on a stolen lollipop. “Bold move, going for the bouncy castle route. Though tempting, the birthday kid might be bouncing around in there, armed with a plastic sword and unbridled fury.” Molly scoffed. "Leave that to me. I've got a special trick up my sleeve, a white noise machine that'd put a hyperactive toddler to sleep. We need a quick sweep. In and out before the sugar rush kicks in.” She tapped the map again, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Once we have the presents, we'll make our escape through the back, leveraging that inflatable slide like a fireman’s pole.” Bill grinned, picturing the scene. He could already imagine the havoc they'd cause, the screams of outraged children, the bewildered faces of parents. Sounds almost as good as the sweet treasure they'd be carting away.