Molly peered over her shoulder, ensuring no one was within earshot. "The party's starting in four hours, Bill. Are you ready?" Bill, adjusting his disguise, nodded with a grin. "Richer than a winning pile of Lego bricks, Molly." Within the room's baby-blue walls, a myriad of laughter and colorful twirls painted their hideout. Children's gleeful innocence was their target; the stuffed animals and sparkly trinkets less captured by imagination and more waiting to cushion their stealthy escape. Dressed as the potential birthday boy-participant, Bill approached his target casually. Meanwhile, Molly swathed her intrepid features more deeply with the actress's expression—kind, patient, three-fourths nudge, and only one-quarter nudge. To fellow prankster Molly, her voice pierced through the muffled festivity, "I spotted the comps box near the fridge. Isn't that where we dine sweetheart?” Bill, eyes scanning partygoers, chuckled. "Only slightly more valuable than a cake’s icing. Remember, Molly, we don't need a full plate; stealth has always been our best dessert." They tossed slight smiles, their shared laughter a rare oasis in the parade of giggles and carelessness surrounding them. Overhead, a disillusioned balloon popped—unplanned and deafening—a metaphorical clasp on their fate. They'd have this show, but not their way. Zero questions. Zero drama. Just 1,000 chuckles in the dark, with their spoils safely cushioned in Molly's pockets beneath the mom-made costume.