"Alright, Bill," Molly said, tapping a finger on the blueprint spread across the table. "Operation: Sugar Rush is a go." Bill squinted at the diagram. "Wait, this says the bouncy castle's in the middle of the gift pile?" "Exactly," Molly grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Think of it like a giant, inflatable fortress of presents. We'll bounce in, grab the loot, and bounce out." "Sounds... bouncy," Bill said, unconvinced. "But what about security? There's gotta be at least five parents glued to their phones, right?" "Five parents, Bill," Molly said, waving a dismissive hand. "Easy pickings. I've got a plan. I'll distract them with a glitter bomb of epic proportions. You'll be in and out before they even realize the piñata's been emptied." Bill whistled. "Glitter bomb it is. But what about the kids? They're gonna be heartbroken." Molly shrugged. "They'll get over it. Besides, think of the joy of unwrapping a truly empty box on Christmas morning. Pure, unadulterated disappointment. It's a gift in itself."