Molly: "Alright, Bill, remember, it's all about precision. Once we get inside, we'll need wine for our lucky charm. Maybe not the legal kind." Bill: "Got it. We'll sidestep to the side entrance. No one's watching. The guests are too preoccupied with the kids and their gifts." Molly: "Exactly, just like a game of Operation - minus the buzzer. My twins will mingle, while I snag the top hat. It's the centerpiece, after all." Bill: "Your twins, huh? They're decent window dressers. Hmm. Here's the plan: you tackle the kids from behind, I'll be the distraction figure." Molly: "Right, I'll play 'antique robot' with green-fingered arms. Might send some of those little tykes running for Mama." Bill snickers, then checks his watch. "Timing is key. We have an hour before Mama picks them up. And just to avoid too much 'game stories,' we stick to our roles." Molly: "Can't have people creating alibis, Bill. They'll wonder if Santa's queer. No one needs that extra shelf of enquiries." Bill chuckles. "Understood. I'll make sure my juggling act pulls them in like moths to a flame." Molly: "Speaking of flame, did you pocket the lighter? A small device, nothing flashy. You're more suited for subtlety." Bill: "Silent as toothpaste tubes, Molly. I've got it. How about this - after your conquest, you'll lean on me outside, and I'll rush home with a stuffed bear." Molly: "Perfect! I've seen those monstrous hoarders of stuffed animals. Great recovery place! Now, where's my smartphone signal once we're clear?" Bill: "The smart wifi box at the far end of the house. It's like giving Santa a tech-tree. Won't mess with the rest of the aunties and uncles who need their phones." Molly: "We're almost there, Bill. I'll signal with my 'robot.' Get ready to execute playful hugs, and give Noah's 'space rock' to little Amelia." They exit through the side door, and Molly feigns sudden interest in tech toy asteroids. Kids circle in, enamored. In a silent operation, distracted precious cargo is carted off. Bill slickly dodges a few clumsy clown antics. Molly plucks the gold foil-wrapped package from a high shelf. "Santa's robots! They'll show in my robot circuits!" Bill: "In what order should we stack them for optimal weight dispersion on the evac route?" Molly grins, nodding at the stacking plan. "Top hat, then scary bear. Let's get outta here." They exit, chuckles fading into the evening air. No parents suspect, just two rogues feasting on their child's innocence and the good ol' siren call of gleaming gifts. As they leave, Bill lobs a gentle sneer to the delighted parents, already blissfully unaware of the party teetering on the edge of orderly chaos. Scene closes with the jingle of keys, innocent merriment, and the promise of a Christmas miracle. Just not the kind Santa's promised. (Word Count: 500)