The scent of stale juice boxes and desperation clung to Bill like a bad suit. He traced a crayon drawing of a lopsided unicorn on the map laid out on the sticky kitchen counter. Molly, a vision of efficient chaos in a sequined tracksuit, pointed her laser pointer at a brightly colored bouncy castle. "Okay, so here's the plan," she began, a mischievous glint in her eye. "We go in as… party entertainers. I’m Twinkle the Magical Fairy. You, Bill, are Sir Reginald, the Enigmatic Wizard." Bill snorted, a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a dying walrus. "A wizard? Molly, I wore a wizard hat once for Halloween, and a child called me a ‘sad beanbag’." "Details, details," Molly dismissed with a flick of her wrist. "The key is misdirection. While I’m mesmerising them with my… well, my magnificent presence, you’ll be in the ‘gift area’." She jabbed the laser pointer at a crudely drawn present pile. "Easy peasy." "And if they have, like, security?" Bill’s voice was tinged with genuine concern. Molly grinned, a flash of white teeth. "Bill, it’s a six-year-old’s birthday party. The only security we're facing is a hyperactive chihuahua and possibly a very determined toddler." "Still a threat," he muttered, picking at a flake of dried frosting on the counter. "You wouldn’t believe what those tiny terrorists are capable of."