The old mansion loomed before them, its turrets reaching for the moon like skeletal fingers. Molly adjusted her lock-picking tools, a slender smile spreading across her face. "Okay, Bill, let's review the plan one more time. We get in, grab the presents, and get out before the kids start crying." Bill rubbed his stubbly chin, his eyes darting back and forth. "And the cake. We can't forget the cake. I've got a friend with a sweet tooth." Molly rolled her eyes. "You did not just say that." Bill shrugged. "Hey, it's a valid concern. Think of the gold rush we'll be having at the after-party." She shot him a side-eye. "This is not a party, Bill. This is a stealth mission. No cake, no karaoke, no –" Bill held up his hands, palms up. "Whoa, whoa, repair man. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. We're thieves, Molly. Don't get too worked up about the details." Molly snorted. "I'm worked up about the cake. Find a weakness in that house's defenses, now." Bill yawned, swinging his bag of gear over his shoulder. "Right, right. The milk supply. Looking forward to it."