"So, the bouncy castle is the main distraction," Molly whispered, her eyes scanning the pastel-colored blueprint. "Right. And while they're all screaming about gravity," Bill chimed in, fiddling with a small, shiny lock pick, "we slip in through the kitchen window. Less chance of encountering any… sugar-fueled toddlers." "Kitchen window? Bill, that's like asking a bear to share its honey pot. The mothers will be in there, judging each other and critiquing the mini quiches." Molly gestured with a pencil. "No, we go for the double doors by the hall. The 'Grand Entrance,' as Mrs. Higgins calls her ghastly living room." "Hallway? That's where the arts and crafts table is. Glitter. Think of the glitter, Molly!" Bill shuddered, a genuine fear in his eyes. "We'll wear hazmat suits," Molly deadpanned. "Besides, the presents will be piled high in the hall, right? Easy pickings. We grab the big ones, the ones that look like they contain actual electronics, and we're out before 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey' is even announced." "Hazmat suits? For a child's birthday? We'll look like we're fumigating the place!" Bill protested. "Exactly. No one will suspect a thing. They'll think we're there to deal with an infestation of… too much joy." Molly smirked.