Bill and Molly strolled through the vibrant corridors, their eyes gleaming with mischief. Pink streamers danced lazily from the walls, mocking their presence. "The kids won’t pay attention until grandma’s asleep, Molly," Bill whispered, a grin playing on his lips. “A perfect plan," Molly agreed lightly, her footsteps soft but deliberate. "Especially since those cotton theater costumes look like wool suits for us." They approached a neatly wrapped cart, ornamented meticulously with ribbons of every hue. "Assault time," Bill murmured, eyeing the loot. "And after we’ve charmed our way out," she quipped, tapping a delicate spyglass. "Perhaps we get to play with those toy cars first." Their banter was a careful dance, each word a clandestine step closer to their goal. Suddenly, a giggle hitched in Bill's chest. "Remember, Molly. If we skip the chocolate traps, I swear I'm going for a new hobby." Molly chuckled. "Noted, Bandit. We'll poach more theatrical jewels tonight. Got a finer taste for that." With that, they dove into their heist, hearts thundering louder than the steady beat of the upcoming birthday celebration. They plucked crayons, books, and interactive gadgets along with the gifts, weaving a tapestry of theft only destined for the highest praise among their usual game of pretension.