A swollen punch bowl bubbled under a flickering ceiling light as Molly crouched behind a stack of party chairs. Her gloves brushed the edge of a tablecloth patterned with dancing giraffes. She tapped a small earpiece and signaled Bill. "Are the disguises ready? The cupcakes smell like impending disaster." "I’ve got glitter bombs and a loud squeaky toy jammer." He hovered near a tower of pastel cupcakes. Streamers fluttered in an unseen draft, casting weird shadows against the wall. A group of toddlers clustered around a magician in a floppy hat. Balloons wobbled. Every parent’s polite chatter became a background thrum beneath adrenaline pulses. Molly pictured catapulting presents into burlap sacks before anyone noticed. Bill’s expression was as serious as a clown preparing for a punchline. Then a distant squeak from a jack-in-the-box sent them both freezing. With slow deliberation they resumed creeping across the linoleum floor. Tiny plastic trinkets and rainbow ribbons lay scattered. A caterpillar balloon animal bobbed near the door handle. In every gift bag they glimpsed shiny paper begging to be pocketed. They shared a determined grin. Tonight’s haul would be legendary. With synchronized stealth they slid the door open and vanished into the laughing throng.