Molly crouched behind the oversized inflatable bouncy castle, peeking through a mesh window. "Okay, Bill, what's the plan? These kids look like mini ninjas with sugar." Bill adjusted his black knit cap and whispered, "First rule of theft at a kids’ party: never underestimate the power of a five-year-old’s scream. Could blow our cover faster than a fire alarm." Molly nodded, eyes narrowing. "Right. So no smashing through windows or anything fancy. Stealth mode, then. But how do we get past the grown-ups? They’re like hawks with coffee." Bill tapped his chin. "We blend in. I overheard the hostess saying the kid's into clowns. Lucky for us, I brought the red nose and rainbow wig." Molly groaned. "You did not." Bill grinned. "No way I’m facing a room full of toddlers beast-mode without some camouflage." Molly eyed him skeptically. "Fine. But you’re not juggling chainsaws." Bill mock-saluted. "Fair enough. So here's the blueprint: you distract the parents by leading the kids in a sing-along. That means animated singing and probably an impromptu dance." Molly raised an eyebrow. "And you?" "I’m the 'balloon animal guy'. Easy target for kids, keeps them glued to me. While you’re conducting karaoke-anxiety, I’ll slip past and grab the goods." Molly sighed. "You do realize kids love tearing stuff apart. If we snatch toys, we gotta be quick before someone shrieks and chaos erupts." Bill nodded. "Exactly why we hit the presents pile first. Then poof, vanish before the sugar crash starts." Molly smirked. "We’re basically Robin Hood... if Robin Hood traded stealing from the rich to robbing birthday parties." Bill chuckled. "Modern problems require modern solutions." Molly looked around nervously. "Wait, what if the birthday kid spots us? Little Timmy’s got laser eyes." Bill shrugged. "We'll bribe him with a balloon sword. Everyone wants a balloon sword." Molly tapped her foot. "All right, then. But what if the parents organize party games mid-heist? Musical chairs, pin the tail on the donkey?" Bill leaned closer. "That’s where your impromptu dance powers come in. If they start the games early, you rally the troops with a spontaneous conga line." Molly snorted. "You’re insane." Bill winked. "Crazy but effective. Now, have you got the fake mustache? It’s crucial." Molly retrieved a sticky patch with a crooked mustache from her pocket and handed it over. "Here. Wear it like your life depends on it." Bill stuck it above his lip. "Might make me look less threatening. Or more. Depends on who’s judging." Molly checked the time. "We’ve got five minutes before cake cutting. That’s our window to move." Bill stretched his arms. "Let’s do this. Ready to make history with the greatest birthday heist ever?" Molly grinned. "Ready as I'll ever be. Just remember—no sudden moves and no sugar crashes." Bill saluted again, wig bouncing. "Operation Party Crasher is a go." Molly took a deep breath, then burst out from behind the inflatable castle, waving her arms. "Hey, kids! Who wants to sing 'Baby Shark'—loud and proud?" Bill followed, balloon twisting in hand. "And who wants a sword to fight the evil cake dragon?" Molly whispered to herself, "Please don’t scream, please don’t scream..." Bill muttered, "And if they do, we run like hell."