Molly crouched behind the rainbow-striped bouncy castle, watching seven-year-olds demolish a piñata with the ferocity of Vikings raiding a monastery. Glitter cannons exploded overhead while a clown juggled flaming torches dangerously close to helium balloons. "This is madness," Bill whispered, adjusting his fake mustache that kept sliding down his sweaty face. The present table groaned under mountains of gift-wrapped boxes, each one potentially containing the rare Pokemon cards they desperately needed to pay off their gambling debts to Big Tony's grandmother. A sticky-fingered toddler wandered past their hiding spot, trailing cotton candy like a sugary ghost. Molly held her breath as the child examined Bill's protruding foot with scientific curiosity before losing interest and chasing a escaped hamster from the petting zoo. "When I signal, you create the distraction," Molly hissed. The birthday boy, wearing a crown made of actual diamonds that his tech mogul parents thought was plastic, began opening presents. Each tear of wrapping paper felt like money slipping away. A face-painted tiger child suddenly spotted them and pointed with a juice-stained finger. Time was running out faster than the ice cream was melting in the blazing sun.