The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a purple hue over the neighborhood. Molly and Bill crouched behind the bushes, eyeing the bright, colorful balloons bobbing in the backyard. “Bill, you sure about this?” Molly whispered, adjusting her beanie. "Piece of cake," Bill smirked. "Trust me, these kids won't know what hit 'em." Molly stifled a giggle. “You mean other than sugar and bad dance moves?” "Exactly," Bill replied, eyes twinkling. "Now, what's the plan again?" "We blend in as extra parents, grab the loot, and leave before they cut the cake," Molly recounted, eyes locked on the mountain of glittery gift bags. "And if we get caught?" “Cry and blame our sugar addiction,” Molly chuckled. Bill gave a nod, admiring the chaos of piñatas and cake-smeared faces. "We’ll be legends." “Or legends on a wanted poster,” Molly teased, glancing at the barricade of strollers. “Semantics,” Bill shrugged, peeking over the bush. “Ready?” Molly slipped on a pair of goofy glasses, winking. “Born ready.” They moved like shadows, sidestepping punch bowls and toddlers with ice cream faces, closing in on the treasure trove. Innocent laughter filled the air, serving as their perfect cover.