Molly and Bill huddled in the cramped alleyway, their eyes scanning the bright-pink "It's a Princess Party" banner draped across the front of the community center. The sound of shrieking children and cackling adults drifted through the open windows, mingling with the hum of the miniature bounce house. "I still can't believe we're doing this," Molly said, adjusting the hem of her ruffled, acid-washed jeans. "Come on, it's a score," Bill replied, cracking his knuckles. "The average kid's birthday party hauls in around five hundred bucks in cash and gifts. This is a wealthy neighborhood. We're talking Easy-Bake Ovens and American Girl dolls." "I thought we were doing this for the principle, not just the cash." "The principle being we're getting too old to be dodging mall cops at the Gap?" Molly playfully rolled her eyes. "The principle being, no one should be subjected to the relentless cuteness of toddler-entertainment." "Ah, right! The tyranny of tea parties and sing-alongs. It's a public service, really." Bill snorted, then held up a black duffel bag. "I've got our party invites. Or, rather, our party disguise." Molly took in the matching t-shirts and hats emblazoned with glittery letters. "You really went for it, didn't you?" "Hey, it's all about blending in. We're going to be the most enthusiastic, glitter-loving partygoers this side of the piñata." Molly couldn't help but giggle. "You're already in character. I'm impressed." "Okay, so here's the plan," Bill said, eyes twinkling. "We get in, make a beeline for the gift table, and –" "And hope the 'One adult per child' rule isn't enforced too strictly?" Bill winked. "Leave that to me. I've got a few fake kiddos where you'd least expect them." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You're not telling me we're bringing the nieces and nephews, are you?" "Oh, no. Those kids would eat me alive. I mean, figuratively. I'm pretty sure I could take them down in a fight. Anyway, it's just a few volunteers I...acquired." Molly's eyes widened. "You mean the ones from the street corner? The ones who still think it's the 1980s?" Bill shrugged. "Hey, they're a nostalgic bunch. And hey, they need the cash. Okay, ready to party?" As they stood, Molly smoothed out her shirt, the irony of the glittery letters striking her. They were about to break into a children's party, but deep down, they were just two kids themselves, trying to get away with it. "Let's go get that loot," she said, grinning. "Right behind you, Princess Sparkles."