Molly gazed out the tinted window of the surveillance van, watching a cluster of sugared-up kids frolic in the park. She turned to Bill, who was busy scouring the party's online invitation for any clues about security. "Think they'll have any of those annoying CPIs?" Bill didn't look up, "You mean Child Protective Inspectors? Doubt it. The parents are more concerned about gluten-free cupcakes than theft." Molly snorted, "Priorities." Bill typed away on his laptop, a mess of wires snaking out of his backpack. The scent of stale pizza wafted from the backseat. "Okay, here's the plan: I'll hack the bounce house while you slip inside disguised as Elsa. You grab the presents, I grab the cake." Molly raised an eyebrow, "You're getting a little old for cake." Bill gazed longingly at the party. "Don't judge me. It's not about the cake, it's about the frosting." "Okay, so how do we get out?" Molly asked, eyeing the sea of minivans and strollers surrounding the party perimeter. Bill flashed a sly grin. "Leave that to me. I've been working on my 'concerned parent' face. It's very convincing."