Molly adjusted her plastic tiara, the point digging into her temple. “Are you sure this is the right place, Bill? Smells strongly of desperation and bad decisions.” Bill, clad in an oversized, brightly colored shirt with the slogan “I’m the Birthday Boy!” slapped across his chest, adjusted his equally oversized novelty sunglasses. “Relax, Molls. Where else would you find twenty sugared-up kids hopped up on cake and probably hallucinating cartoon characters?” Molly wrinkled her nose. “You make a compelling point. Still, I’d feel better if this wasn’t a party themed after… what even is that abomination?” Bill squinted at the banner above the pastel-colored bouncy castle. “Looks like a deranged purple platypus wearing rainboots.” Molly shuddered. “Right, those are definitely the party favors you want to risk your neck for.” Bill scoffed. “Party favors? Molls, have you learned nothing from our years of questionable life choices? It’s not about the cheap plastic toys, it’s about the untraceable gift cards and cold hard cash stuffed inside those adorable little envelopes.” Molly grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Bill, you sentimental old fool. You’re in this for the thrill of liberating grandparents from their pensions, aren’t you?” Bill chuckled and pulled out a whistle from his pocket. It was bright orange and shaped like the platypus from the banner, only with a more manic glint in its eye. “Thrill? Please, Molls. I prefer to think of it as early inheritance planning.” He winked and blew the whistle, causing a piercing, shrill sound to fill the air. Children, momentarily stunned into silence, turned to stare at the source of the sound. Bill, with the confidence of a seasoned stage performer, bowed deeply. "Greetings, small humans! Prepare to be amazed by the Great Billini and his incredible disappearing act!" Molly rolled her eyes but kept her voice low, just enough for Bill to hear. "Disappearing act? You're really stealing from children with a magic show? Have you no shame, man?" Bill, ignoring her completely, pulled out a brightly colored scarf from seemingly nowhere. He shook it with a flourish, his grin widening as a few children squealed with delight. "Shame? My dear Molls, shame doesn't buy you a retirement villa in the Bahamas."