Dim light filtered through the party tent as Molly crouched behind a deflated bouncy castle. Balloons bobbed in a slow breeze, promising chaos. She checked her mini wrench and tiptoed to the gift table. Bill hovered by the punch bowl, nervously adjusting his black gloves. Cupcakes sat on a tier, frosting glinting like tiny gates to riches. The DJ’s speakers hummed a nursery rhyme remix. They exchanged a quick glance. Molly tapped her watch; time was short. Bill grinned and whispered a thumbs up. The children’s laughter echoed beyond the canvas walls, spurring them forward. Shadows danced around eager gifts. Molly: “Bill, are you certain nobody will catch us mid-swipe?” Bill: “Relax, I’ve disguised myself as a balloon animal delivery guy.” Molly: “You look like a deflated lizard in a floppy hat.” Bill: “At least I’m not wearing glitter bombs in my shoes again.” Molly: “Here’s the plan: you distract with party horns, I grab the gifts.” Bill: “Got it. Once the kids start dancing, I’ll unleash the noisemakers.” Molly: “And what about the cake? We need sugar energy for the getaway.” Bill: “Consider it sampled. Now hurry, reinforcements of hyperactive toddlers are incoming.” Molly: “Afterwards, split the loot and vanish into the night—quietly, please.” Bill: “Four presents each? Perfect.”