Molly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the suburban house across the street. Balloons bobbed in the gentle breeze, and the sound of children's laughter drifted through the air. Next to her, Bill fidgeted with his fake mustache, adjusting it for the hundredth time. "Would you stop that?" Molly hissed. "You're gonna pull it off before we even get in there." Bill's hand dropped to his lap. "Sorry, it's just... are we really doing this? Stealing from kids?" Molly rolled her eyes. "We've been over this, Bill. It's not stealing from kids, it's stealing from their parents. Rich parents who can afford to buy more presents." "I don't know, Mol. It feels wrong." "You want to pay off your gambling debts or not?" Molly snapped. Bill sighed, defeated. "Yeah, I do. So, what's the plan again?" Molly pointed to the house. "See that window on the second floor? That's where they're keeping the presents. We go in, grab as much as we can carry, and get out. Simple." "And how exactly are we getting in?" A wicked grin spread across Molly's face. She reached into the backseat and pulled out two garish clown costumes. "Ta-da! Our ticket inside." Bill's eyes widened in horror. "Oh no. No way. I am not wearing that." "Come on, it'll be fun! You always wanted to be a performer, right?" "Yeah, on Broadway, not at little Timmy's birthday party!" Molly shoved the costume into Bill's arms. "Just put it on. We've got five minutes before showtime." Grumbling, Bill started to change. "I still think this is a bad idea." "Noted. Now shut up and honk your nose." A few minutes later, they were standing at the front door. Molly rang the doorbell, plastering on her biggest, fakest smile. A harried-looking woman answered, relief flooding her face at the sight of them. "Oh, thank goodness you're here! The kids are getting restless." Molly gave an exaggerated bow. "Never fear, Giggles and Squiggles are here to save the day!" As they entered the chaos of the party, Bill leaned in close to Molly. "Giggles and Squiggles? Really?" "Shut up and start juggling," Molly muttered through gritted teeth. For the next hour, they entertained a horde of sugar-crazed children with bad jokes, clumsy magic tricks, and balloon animals that looked more like abstract art than recognizable shapes. All the while, Molly's eyes kept darting to the stairs, waiting for their moment. Finally, as the cake was being brought out, Molly nudged Bill. "Now's our chance. I'll distract them, you head upstairs." Before Bill could protest, Molly launched into a ridiculous dance routine, capturing everyone's attention. Bill slipped away, his oversized shoes squeaking with each step. He found the present room easily enough, but as he reached for the first gift, he hesitated. Through the window, he could see the kids below, their faces lit up with joy as they watched Molly's performance. With a heavy sigh, Bill turned and walked out of the room empty-handed. Some things, he realized, were worth more than money. When he returned downstairs, Molly shot him a questioning look. Bill just shook his head slightly. Molly's eyes narrowed, but she kept dancing, her smile never faltering. As they left the party an hour later, Molly hissed, "What happened?" Bill shrugged, a small smile on his face. "Guess Squiggles found his conscience." Molly groaned, but there was a hint of fondness in her voice as she said, "You're impossible, you know that?" "Yeah," Bill chuckled. "But admit it, you wouldn't have me any other way."