Molly peered over the fence into the backyard, scanning the inflatable unicorn-themed obstacle course. "This seems too easy," she muttered to her accomplice Bill. "It's like they're just begging to be robbed." Bill adjusted his stocking mask and nodded. "Too bad. Our twisted kid-at-heart instincts can't resist." They hopped the fence, making a beeline for the large gift pile under a colorful tent. Molly rummaged in her knapsack and pulled out a lock pick set. "Watch the kids, I'll handle the presents." As she hurriedly opened boxes and started tossing dolls, LEGOs, and hula hoops into a burlap sack, Bill kept watch. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice shouted: "Hey! What are you doing with my presents?!" Bill spun to see an angry cherub in a sparkly unicorn onesie, stomping towards them. He held up his hands. "Uh, nothing buddy. We were just...rearranging your gift pile for...logistics." "Right, that's totally believable," Molly said dryly. "Oops! Looks like we got caught, Bill. Time to abort this unicorn heist." Bill reached under his jacket and pulled out a Major Waffle action figure and waved it at the scowling tyke. "The squireillance! Uh, I mean, security! This fig-cost is why Mommy calls it an, uh, au pair?" The kid from her onesie. Molly rolled her eyes beneath her ski mask. "Quick thinking, Bill. 't's a good thing you brought the prop toy along. 'Ll save our itty bitty butts." They made a hasty retreat, "borrowed" presents in tow, hopping the fence hastily and laughing maniacally as they ran from the angry chorus of "return our giffs, you meanie!" "I think we just scarred those poor rug rat forever," Molly panted.