Molly sprawled across the velvet couch in the dimly lit hotel suite, her gaze drifting lazily towards the open laptop screen on the coffee table. Bill, slouched beside her, tapped away at the keyboard with a Dorito-dusted finger, scrolling through the party invitation website. "Okay, so it says here the birthday boy's name is Timmy. Age six. The party's at a private residence in the Hills, with a petting zoo and a bouncy castle." Molly raised an eyebrow. "A petting zoo? You know that's just a euphemism for rabies waiting to happen." Bill snorted, blowing a puff of cheese dust into the air. "You're just bitter because you're allergic to goats." Molly snatched the keyboard from Bill's hands. "I'm not allergic to goats, I'm allergic to goats' lack of personal space." She scrolled down the page, her eyes widening. "Oh, jackpot. The gift policy says each child must bring a wrapped present. That's at least fifty potential scores, if we can get to them before the kids open them." Bill's face lit up with an unscrupulous grin. "And I just happen to have a Contact Us page that says the party starts at 10 am sharp. Plenty of time for us to get our grab-and-dash on." Molly leaned over, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's get dressed, Bill. We've got a birthday to crash."