Molly flicks a lockpick nervously, her eyes darting around the colorful party room. “We’ve synchronized everything, Bill. Now, the only thing that’s unsynced is the timing of our entrance.” Bill tosses a thumb-twister over his shoulder, grinning. “Don’t worry, Molly, I’ve got a master plan that’s sharper than the kids' paper cranes.” “But what about Santa?” Molly's voice crackles with tension. Bill taps an imaginary watch. “Operation Chaos, phase one: Santa swap." Molly snatches a few tissues from her bag, crumpling them in her fingers. “What if the parents start suspecting something?" "Then we'll just open our mouths a little more," Bill teases. "See Silent Symphony coming, one sleepless, over-spirited kid at a time.” "Hmm, okay, but remember my ears are as sharp as the swords on their gingerbread man." "And my thumb-twister could balance on a tightrope over 'The Hedge Maze' to avoid early detections." "Fine but if we get spotted," Molly spills, glancing at the toys on shelves, "you hear about it." "Only on one condition—there be no legos in that one tote." Molly glances at the stable roof's shadow, playful determination in her eyes. "Consider it done. We in, the presents out, and our escapes smoother than jam on jelly wigs."