The moon hung high and bright over the sleepy suburb where Molly and Bill crouched behind a row of finely trimmed hedges. The faint sounds of giggles and children's songs drifted through the air from the house across the street—a picturesque peppermint palace clad in festive balloons and streamers. "Alright, Bill, focus," Molly whispered, nudging him with her elbow. "We only have a small window before they start opening those presents." Bill adjusted his ski mask, which was a bit too tight around the middle. "Remind me why we're doing this again?" Molly rolled her eyes. "Because, genius, we sell the toys, pay off our casino debts, and avoid waking up next to a horse’s head." Bill nodded solemnly. "Right, right. No horse heads. Got it." She produced a crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket. "Now here's the plan. You distract them with the gift-wrapped decoy you've got in your bag." Bill's eyes widened in mock astonishment. "You mean the 'gift of foolery'? My finest work!" "Whatever, Picasso," Molly sighed. "While you work your charm, I'll slip in through the side door and grab as much as I can. We meet back here in ten minutes, tops." Bill patted his bag, feeling the reassuring bulk of the decoy. "And what if one of those munchkins sees me?" "Just pretend you're a clown. Kids love clowns, right?" He winced. "You ever seen kids with a clown, Molly? It’s 50-50 they either laugh or scream. I’ll take my chances." Molly gave Bill a look that was half pity, half envy. "Look, just do what you do best. Be charming." Bill puffed out his chest. "Charming is my middle name." She snorted softly. "I thought it was 'bungling'..." Begging no reply, Bill sidled off around the corner, leaving Molly to navigate her way to the house. She found the side door suspiciously unlocked, a lucky break or perhaps just sloppy party planning. Pushing it open carefully, she was greeted by the roar of sugar-fueled chaos. The living room teem with toddlers and pile of presents, the epicenter of their operation. Bill, meanwhile, approached the group of parents, flashing his brightest grin. "Well hello there! I’m Bozo Bill, the wandering wonder from Clown Town!" Molly almost cringed hearing his voice project over the din, knowing full well any sudden distractions were a sign of his improvisational desperation. The parents exchanged confused glances, one dad awkwardly pulling out his phone as if summoning security with a secret app. But the kids—they squealed in delight. Bill took that as a win. "Who wants to see a magic trick?" Back inside, Molly worked quickly, sliding the gifts one by one into her oversized Santa sack. Plush toys, action figures, coloring books—all lovingly wrapped and all soon to disappear. Her heart pounded as a little girl in a party dress wandered into the room, eyes wide as saucers. Before the girl could react, Bill's voice boomed through the doorway: "And poof—it's gone!" The crowd gasped, entranced by Bill's antics. Molly seized her chance, slipping the last gift into her sack and slipping out the side door once more. When she emerged into the night, she found Bill already there, a skipping step in his retreat. "Did we get everything?" "Enough to keep us swimming in cash," Molly replied, hefting the sack with mild triumph. "Though you might have a career in clowning after all." Bill chuckled, holding up a wrapped present he’d managed to pinch in the chaos. "Who’s laughing now?" Their eyes met, a mad glint of success shared between them. And with a nod to the moonlit sky, they turned and vanished back into the shadows from whence they came.