A narrow hallway lined with pastel balloons smelled faintly of sugar. Mismatched socks warmed by the heating vent, Molly crouched by a stacked tower of wrapped boxes. Bill hovered nearby, balancing a squeaky balloon dog in one hand and a lockpick in the other. They scanned a list scrawled on crumpled paper, each name promising tiny treasures behind brightly colored paper. The muffled hum of singing drifted through a vent grille. Molly tapped her heel against the wall. Bill clenched his jaw and whispered that they had exactly two minutes before the cake reveal. They shared a tense grin swiftly. Molly: "Bill, are you sure we can lift seven crates of glitter slime in ninety seconds?" Bill: "If we time the cake cut as our signal, we slip past the clown face." Molly: "I’ll distract the kids with impromptu juggling if you handle the gift bags." Bill: "Got it. I’ve repurposed ribbon strips as secure tie-downs for our loot." Molly: "What about the helium balloon net? Last time we tangled for half an hour." Bill: "I replaced it with a retractable fishing net. Trust me on this one." Molly: "Okay. But we still need backup for the surprise piñata reveal."