Molly perched on the edge of the fold-out chair, while Bill fiddled with his lockpicks. The backyard was aglow with strings of fairy lights, and the sound of laughing children merged with the unmistakable jingle of party games. "You realize if we get caught, it's not just a slap on the wrist, right?" Bill’s voice was low, a murmur meant only for Molly. "Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Molly replied, rolling her eyes. "Given it's a library of sound effects we're stealing from, I fear we're in for a real treat silencing the 'crass' laughter." Bill smirked. "Exactly. 'Operation Silent Santa' has a certain ring to it." "'Bells and Whistles' is a book, silly," Molly corrected with a grin. "Though if you could rig the party lights to play that tune—" "Say no more," Bill paused, leaning in conspiratorially. "Let's set our plans like dominos. We swipe the masterpieces, and bam! The party's over faster than a two-year-old's patience with a present." Molly nodded, looking around. "Right. Tops on the hitlist—the Big House's entertainment stash. Those high-stakes party games, the elephant piñata, the jungle of streamers. This Big House means serious loot." "And a big challenge," added Bill. "No sweat, though. We've done hardier work than cracking the vault of kid-land. Remember the school Carnival? We snagged the giant teddy bear right under their noses!" "We had to navigate through the fog machine, Bill—the fog machine!" Molly shook her head as if just remembering the chaos. Bill grinning, unfolded the blueprint on the table. It was a detailed layout of the backyard, gift boxes marked with stars, a trail to the 'big reveal'—the glittering treasure trove. "You see that streamers gateway?" Bill pointed. "That's our secret pathway. Practically invisible with a few well-placed distractions." "Perfect. While they're all distracted by the magic glow worms," Molly nodded towards the fairy lights. "We'll be apparating the goodies to our tech van." "The tech van has dual sliding doors, a reinforced trunk," Bill said, as if that validated their high-tech larceny. "And a top-grade sound system for the escape tunes." Molly snorted. "You do realize those songs aren't magical yet. Besides, don't forget the fog machine. If we need cover, we can unleash a cloud of confusion." "Yeah, childhood nostalgia at its finest," Bill chuckled. "But first, we need the goods. We pick the piñata up, then we dismantle the games one by one. They’ll be squealing with merriment, completely oblivious to our shenanigans." She raised an eyebrow. "Have you considered the safety of the gifts? Sure, they're toys and gadgets, but they're the children's stuff. We don’t want to ruin Christmas, Bill." Bill straightened up, suddenly all business. "I get it, Molly. The kids’ joy is... priceless. We take what we need and leave the rest. We're not thieves; we're liberators of love-stricken items waiting to spark joy in some tech-needy hands." Molly offered a mock bow. "And the crowning of nobility it is! But remember, gentleman and lady thief—" "—We’ve got to be swift, efficient, and almost invisible," Bill finalized their oath. The pair stood, shared a look of steely determination and crackling camaraderie, then melted into the merriment that swirled around them like confetti caught in a wistful wind.