Molly grinned, swiping a kazoo from the checkout counter. “You know, Bill, this is the perfect kind of party for a heist like ours.” Bill leaned against the counter, eyeing the boxes of toys and candy. “Sure, but remember, we're not kids anymore. No wild chase after the sole red present.” “Oh, come on,” Molly playfully huffed. “We're not stealing, we're... collecting! Plus, think of the laughs. Imagine us, sprinting with toys, dodging 'Amish' parents with pitchforks!” Bill rolled his eyes. “We'll avoid the chaos, Molly. I’m thinking a discreet entrance—through the cumbersome gift bags.” She shrugged, bagging a rubber snake. “Whatever floats your boat. Just make sure you don't end up confiscating carrots thinking they're diamond cases.” With a slight fanfare, they danced around each guest, exchanging pleasantries while keeping an eye out for hiding spots. “Central location,” observed Molly. “Think we’ll have an open buffet of stuffed animals to flavor our escape.” Bill, pocketing a set of tiny drums, replied, “Just keep the noise down. We don’t want the RSVP list to morph into a neighborhood watch roster.” As the clock struck nearing midnight, the party's excessive cheer faded to a sleepy groan. They exchanged tight smiles. Their golden moment had arrived. “Listen up,” Molly said, holding a gigantic stuffed bear. “We steal quietly, slip out unseen like ninja thieves. I'll handle the main corridor. You sneak off with the gift bags at the end.” “Happy tippling,” Bill grunted as he approached the departing guests, eyes creeping like shadows. Even Molly felt a pang of guilt, but she masked it with a grin. With nimble fingers and the fleetness of a magpie, they frolicked among the gifts, tallying opportunities for riches. Inside each bag, a potential fortune nestled. Treasures for their 'priceless' home. “Easy does it, Mol,” whispered Bill, tucking a fleece into his satchel. Molly nodded, gently pulling the tangle of chains from a plush dragon. “We’re crafting our own adventure, mate. This is what grand larceny is all about.” As the first rays of dawn stretched across the sky, their escape vanished as seamlessly as their footsteps, leaving behind a party with no more small presents and no playing costumes thrown across polite waters. “Let’s hit the hay,” Molly suggested as they glanced over their loot under dim moonlight—items soon to change hands for good. “Affairs of the heart,” Bill said, adding a marble egg to the sack. “Dreams of giant teddy bears, rock-solid drumsticks, and rubber snakes are bound to keep us snug through the winter.” They winked at each other, thieves by choice and just hours apart, envisioning their next caper—maybe not a children's party, but something just as adventurous. (Word count: 500)