"Are you sure this is our best option, Bill?" Molly whispered, tugging at her ski mask that was slipping off her nose, her eyes fixated on the advertisement poster hanging beside her. In bold letters, it read: 'The ultimate Christmas bash for kids.' Bill, adjusting his coat, smirked. "Listen, Molly. There's no better score here. If I'm right, those kids'll be too distracted by sugar to notice us." He patted the lapel of his coat, double-checking the lock-picking tools within. "And after we breach the estate's defenses, the security system code is eleven-forty-two, just like the invitation said." Molly rolled her eyes and took out her own set of tools, "Well, as long as you're certain. I thought we'd never go this low." "Low?" Bill's eyes widened, "We're not stealing from kids, we're liberating the presents from the grasping clutches of the adults. Besides, how many times have we nicked stuff from casinos, jewellery stores, and banks? Don't worry. It'll be a jolly good Christmas for you and me." "Honestly, Bill, you're such an optimist." Molly couldn't help but grin. "And if you're right, we'll have all the toys and trinkets to ourselves." "Exactly. Now, let's make our move before the jolly old man arrives." Bill sneered, referring to the chubby guy on the poster. Molly nodded and separated from him, both sliding into their crouched positions, creeping towards the gates. With a swift click, Bill unlocked the gate. They snuck along the garden, each silent footstep resembling the sound of softly falling leaves. Molly's eyes sparkled when she spotted the shiny bows from the presents. A mile away, a sleigh bell tinkled, interrupted by Santa's sliding voice over a microphone: "Kids, gather around, let's start the party!" "We've got less than fifteen minutes," Molly whispered, her tone turning eager. Bill winked, swung open the door, and they glided into the party. It's time to work, and there's no room for mistakes.