Molly tapped her foot against the grimy asphalt, a symphony of impatient percussion against the backdrop of squealing children. The park was a tableau of brightly colored bouncy castles, pizza boxes piled precariously high, and parents desperately seeking refuge from the sugar-fueled chaos. It was perfect. “Okay, Bill, let’s go over this one more time.” Molly checked her watch, its gold face flashing with an offensively cheerful rainbow sheen. “Present drop off time is in ten. We have fifteen minutes to scope out the situation, tag the gifts, and slip out before the clown throws out his next balloon animal.” Bill, sprawled nonchalantly on a park bench, raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Tag the gifts how? We’re not throwing glitter bombs on these poor unsuspecting presents, are we?” "Ugh, no, Bill. We’re professionals. Remember?” Molly gave him a sly smile. “Think edible. Think temporary. Washable.” Bill chewed thoughtfully on a half-eaten hot dog, ketchup smeared across his nose. “Those mini-cupcakes they have are pretty tempting. Maybe we could—" “No cupcakes, Bill! We’re on a mission here.” Molly snapped her fingers, a manic glee flickering in her eyes. “Glow sticks. Tiny, bright, and impossible to miss. Children will love them, we'll love them, and the Wrapping Paper Fairy will lose her mind.” Bill, finally understanding, let out a low whistle. “You menace. I’m impressed.” “Impressed enough to help?” “Always, kid. But I still call dibs on the remote-controlled dinosaur. The giant one.” Molly rolled her eyes. “Typical Bill. Just try not to leave a trail of frosting and crumbs leading back to our hideout.” Bill saluted lazily, a glop of mustard threatening to fall from his chin. “Consider it done, Captain Glitterbomb.” They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the birthday party unfold, a rolling sea of sugar-crazed children. “Molly?” “Yeah?” “Are we sure those glow sticks are washable?” Molly winked. “They’ll come out eventually. Trust me, Bill. This is going to be our masterpiece.” A wave of children, faces sticky with ice cream and eyes bright with excitement, surged past them, pulling wagons piled high with brightly wrapped gifts. The countdown was on. Molly adjusted her sunglasses and grinned, a wolf in sheep's clothing. “Let's blow this popsicle stand.”