Molly and Bill huddled together in their cramped, nondescript sedan, parked just down the street from their target—a sprawling, suburban McMansion, where a cacophony of tiny voices sang "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" with varying degrees of success. "Alright, Bill," Molly said, flipping through a worn notebook filled with scribbled maps and hastily drawn diagrams. "We've got twenty little rugrats and their sugar-highs to contend with, plus the parents, and..." She paused, her eyebrows furrowing. "Is that a clown?" Bill squinted through the binoculars, groaning. "Yeah, and a really creepy one at that. Why do kids like clowns, anyway?" Molly shrugged. "Because they haven't seen 'It' yet?" She tapped her pen on the notebook, running through the plan. "Okay, so we've got the clown, the parents, and the kids. We need a distraction. Something big." "How about we set off the sprinklers?" Bill suggested, lowering the binoculars. "Kids love playing in water, right?" Molly rolled her eyes. "And ruin all those perfectly wrapped presents? Use your head, Bill. We're here for the loot, not to be the world's worst party crashers." Bill grunted, scratching his stubble. "Fine, fine. What about a fake fire alarm? That'll clear the place out." Molly considered this, then nodded. "Good. That's our distraction. Now, we need to get in and out fast. You take the front door, I'll sneak in through the back. We'll meet in the middle, grab the presents, and make a run for it." Bill raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan on carrying fifty presents out without anyone noticing?" Molly grinned, reaching into the backseat and pulling out two large, brightly colored sacks. "We do it in plain sight. We'll be the world's fastest, most efficient Santa impersonators." Bill chuckled, taking one of the sacks. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Molly winked. "That's why I'm the brains of this operation. Now come on, let's go steal some happiness." They stepped out of the car, blending into the suburban scenery with their casual clothes and friendly smiles. As they approached the house, the sound of laughter and children's cheer filled the air. Molly looked at Bill, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You ready to make some kids very unhappy?" she asked. Bill sighed, adjusting the sack on his shoulder. "You know, sometimes I wonder why I got into this business." Molly laughed, patting him on the back. "Because, Bill, it's never boring. Now let's go. We've got a party to crash."