*Bill:* "Here's the plan, Molly. We'll grab the presents, then meet at the usual spot. Call me with the count at 0300, so we can divvy them up before daylight. Any questions?" Molly sighed, deep in thought while pinching the bridge of her nose. "Beautifully simple. We crawl in through the window, snatch the booty, and dip out like ghosts. The hard bit comes later when we're sitting in silence at 0230, waiting for your ass to show up." Bill smirked, an air of arrogance in his voice. "You have to trust me, Mollybear. I've got contacts that can sell this hotrockery. Just keep your nerves steady for tonight's hustle. Get in quick, get out quicker. If all goes as scripted, we'll be rolling in cheese pies by sunrise." "You're a smooth-talking dream to work with, B. I never even get tired of your fancy words." "Aw, shucks, Molly. How'd my mama make such a sweet-a-talker like me?" "I was marveled by the birthing miracle myself, Bill. Babies are babies, not what they become. Husbands are husbands, not what they seem. And peanuts are peanuts, not what a squirrel outside your window think they are. Even I don’t know what my husband sees in me to still be married to me after 50 years." *Bill* laughed. "With looks like yours, Molly, I wouldn't sleep a wink unless I paid the bills for a pretty wife like you."