Molly crouched behind a hedge, eyeing the colorful chaos of the children's party through a pair of oversized binoculars. Bill joined her, clutching a crumpled map of the backyard. "You sure this is the spot?" Bill whispered, gesturing to the towering pile of gifts near the bouncy castle. Molly rolled her eyes. "Of course, it's the spot. Where else would they put the loot?" "Right, right. But look at that clown making balloon animals. What if he's really a ninja?" She snorted. "A ninja clown? That's the best you've got?" "Hey, it's a legit concern!" Bill protested. "Have you ever seen a clown and a ninja in the same room?" "Focus, Bill. We're not here for the animal-shaped helium. We're here for the presents." Bill nodded, still eyeing the clown suspiciously. "Okay, so we wait for the chaos of the cake-cutting, right?" "Exactly. Classic misdirection. They'll all be too sugared-up to notice us slip in and out." "But what about the birthday kid? You know they always watch the presents like a hawk." Molly smirked, pulling out two striped onesies. "That's why we're going to blend in. Say hello to the newest party entertainers." Bill's face fell. "You can't be serious. We're going in as... mascots?" "Think about it. What's more non-threatening than a couple of giant dancing animals?" "I dunno, Mol. I had a traumatic mascot experience as a kid," Bill muttered, holding up the onesie like it was a diseased rat. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun! Besides, we'll be in and out before anyone realizes their presents are lighter by a few pounds." Bill sighed, resignation in his voice. "Fine. But if I have to break into a sweaty conga line with a bunch of six-year-olds, you owe me the biggest slice of cake." Molly clapped him on the back. "Deal. Now let's go make some kids' days... and then ruin them."