Molly leaned against the graffiti-spattered wall, her gaze fixed on the brightly decorated community hall across the street. It was adorned with balloons and banners screaming ‘Happy Birthday!’ in bold, cheerful letters. Bill fidgeted next to her, peering through a pair of oversized binoculars he'd found at a garage sale for such occasions. "Seems excessive for a kiddo, doesn't it?" Molly murmured, watching as another car pulled up and parents unloaded more brightly wrapped gifts. Bill lowered his binoculars, grinning. "That's capitalism, baby. The more presents, the merrier—for us, at least." Molly chuckled. "So, what’s your grand plan, Bill? Walk up as clowns? Magicians? The lost entertainment?" "Even better," Bill said, eyes glinting. "We go as party inspectors. Official-looking badges, clipboards, the works. We'll say we're there to ensure the party's up to code—health and safety, you know?" Molly raised her eyebrows. "Health and safety? At a kid's birthday party?" "Hey, ever seen a sugar-high six-year-old running with scissors? It’s chaos, carnage waiting to happen," Bill replied, tucking the binoculars into his jacket. Molly snorted, pulling out two laminated badges from her bag. "Party inspectors, huh? What if someone asks for ID?" "That’s why I spent three hours watching YouTube tutorials on how to laminate," Bill said, puffing up his chest slightly. "Right," Molly said, rolling her eyes. "So the plan: we arrive, inspect, snag the gifts while everyone’s busy with the pinata or some absurdly large cake." "Yup. And if anyone asks too many questions, I’ve got an app that mimics a call from the mayor, thanking the parents for their impeccable compliance. Works every time," Bill added, tapping his phone confidently. Molly grinned. "I have to admit, it’s a solid plan." They watched as more families streamed into the hall. The muffled sound of children laughing and music playing could already be heard, drifting across the street like an invitation. "Timing’s everything," Molly said. "We need a distraction. Something that draws the adults away but keeps the kids occupied." "I loaded my pockets with confetti bombs. Too juvenile?" Bill asked, somewhat sheepishly. "Perfectly juvenile," Molly affirmed. "Toss them right before we head in. Kids will love the chaos, and their parents will scramble to calm the storm." With their plan set, Molly and Bill donned their makeshift inspector garb. They crossed the street with practiced ease, the clinking of their official-looking badges synchronizing with their confident strides. As they approached the door, Molly gave Bill a sidelong glance, the thrill of the heist tingling in her veins. "You ready for this?" Bill flicked open his clipboard, revealing a stack of official-looking papers. "Ready to bring health and safety back to children's parties." The door swung open before they could knock, a frazzled man holding a balloon animal and a crying toddler. "Thank goodness you're here! Something tells me this party's a ticking time bomb of violations!" Molly and Bill exchanged a glance, barely suppressing their smirks as they stepped inside, badges gleaming under the hall’s fluorescent lights. Let the party inspection commence.