Crimson streamers dangled over a vinyl wall, humming faintly under a row of blinking battery lights. Molly perched on tiptoes, scanning the room through a dense barricade of balloons shaped like unicorns. Bill adjusted his oversized teddy suit head, nostrils flaring at the hint of vanilla frosting. A flicker of tinsel loomed in the distance, guarding a long table strewn with colorfully wrapped boxes. Soft giggles drifted through a slit in the door. They crouched behind a decorative piñata, sharing a conspiratorial smirk. Molly’s heart pounded like drumbeats in a fairy tale band. Bill’s gloved fingers trembled over a glitter bomb labeled ‘Celebrate Good Times.’ Outside, a distant shout announced the clown’s arrival. They exhaled silent breaths, shaking their heads at the absurdity of stealing birthday loot from pint-sized ballerinas and dinosaur enthusiasts. Yet the promise of hundreds of prank whistles and soap bubbles in their sacks was too tempting to resist. A door hinge creaked. Everything hinged on timing and a well-aimed swoop of neon confetti. They grinned like sugar-fiends at a candy buffet. Giggling with glee. Molly: "Check every corner. No one spots glitter tonight at midnight." Bill: "Operation Fiesta is in motion. Cake batter is lethal, seriously."