Under a canopy of twinkling fairy lights, Molly and Bill crouched behind a hedge at the edge of Mr. Whiskers' backyard. The gentle hum of children's laughter and the smell of fresh cupcakes wafted through the air, mingling awkwardly with the underlying stench that always accompanied Bill's lucky socks. "Alright, Bill, phase one. What do we got?" Molly whispered, her eyes darting to the vibrantly decorated backyard filled with children clutching balloons and smearing frosting on their faces. Bill pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, squinting in the dim light. "Okay, so we slip in through the kitchen. The clowns should be distracting the little monsters long enough for us to gather the loot." Molly slapped his shoulder. "They're not monsters, Bill. They're children. Small, sticky children who are easily distracted. That's our advantage." Bill nodded, stuffing the paper back in his pocket. "Right. So, you distract the babysitter with the old ‘my friend has a bloody nose’ trick and I'll swipe the presents." Molly raised an eyebrow. "Bill, every one of our plans involves someone getting a bloody nose. Have you noticed that?" Bill shrugged sheepishly. "It works, doesn't it?" "Sure, until we run out of bloody noses to give." Bill grinned, flashing a gap between his teeth that had its own backstory involving a runaway shopping cart and a particularly stubborn grande latte. "Come on, Molls, what could go wrong?" "Everything," Molly muttered, peering through the hedge again. "But I suppose I've got your lucky socks with us." The two thieves shuffled around to the side entrance, Molly steeled herself and plastered on a look of panic. She barged into the kitchen, nearly colliding with the teenage babysitter who was balancing a tray of juice boxes. "Help! My friend! He's bleeding!" Molly wailed, pointing back towards the hedge. The babysitter, eyes wide, fumbled with the tray. "Oh my gosh! Where's the first aid kit?" "I don't know! Just—just come quick!" Molly grabbed her by the wrist, preventing her from seeing Bill sneak behind her towards the pile of brightly wrapped presents. As soon as the babysitter was out of sight, Bill tiptoed to the mountain of gifts. He pulled out a large duffel bag from underneath his jacket and began stuffing the packages in with rapid precision. Meanwhile, outside, Molly led the babysitter past the hedge, then stopped suddenly. "Oh, wait, it's okay. False alarm. He just had ketchup on his face," she said, her tone now oddly relaxed. The babysitter blinked. "Ketchup?" "Yeah, kids today, right? They get it everywhere," Molly said, her smile almost genuine. "Thanks anyway!" The babysitter, still out of sorts, mumbled something that sounded like "No problem" and wandered back towards the house. Molly gave a quick thumbs-up to Bill, who stuffed the last of the gifts into the duffel bag. "Phase two: Egress," Bill whispered, squeezing through the door with the overly stuffed bag. Molly joined him, and they briskly walked towards the back gate, trying to look as casual as two criminals burdened with ill-gotten loot could. Just as they reached the gate, a shrill cry pierced the air. "The presents! They're gone!" Bill and Molly exchanged glances, their pace quickening to an outright sprint across Mr. Whiskers' perfectly manicured lawn. "You never said anything about them noticing so soon!" Bill panted. "I didn't plan for this many observant children!" Molly shot back. The duo vaulted over the fence and disappeared into the night, their laughter trailing behind them. As Bill and Molly turned the corner into the safety of darkness, Molly couldn't help but chuckle. "This went smoother than expected, huh?" Bill just grinned, hefting the bag of brightly wrapped bounty. "Told you, Molly. Lucky socks never fail."