Molly sipped her coffee, gazing out the cafe window at the inflatable bounce house set up in the park across the street. "You sure about this, Bill? I've never stolen from kids before." "Come on, Molly, it's not like we're heartless," Bill said, tossing a sugar packet into his own coffee. "We're just... redirecting the joy. Those presents are going to end up broken or lost within the week, anyway." Molly raised an eyebrow. "That's your rationalization, is it?" "Hey, it's a good one," Bill said, grinning. "And have you seen the invite list for this party? The mayor's kid is going to be there. We're talking top-of-the-line, boutique toys. We could retire on this haul." Molly snorted. "If we don't get caught by a room full of sugared-up five-year-olds, that is." Bill chuckled. "That's the beauty of it – they'll be too busy crying about their missing cake to notice us slipping out the back door with the loot." Molly sighed, shaking her head. "You're a terrible person, Bill." "Hey, someone's got to keep the spirit of Christmas alive... in our bank accounts."