The rain pelted the window pane as Molly fiddled with the lockpick. "Got it," she whispered triumphantly, easing the window open with a soft creak. Bill, her partner in crime, peeked out from behind a bush. "Kids are sleeping, music's off. Timing's perfect. Remember, anything smaller than a Playstation forget you saw it." " greed is not good, Bill." Molly vaulted in, landing on silky pink carpet. Tchotchkes and toys littered every surface. Her eyes did a little jig. Bill rolled in, stifling a whoop. "Merry fucking Christmas to me." "We've got ten, fifteen minutes tops," Molly said, scooping armfuls of presents into a duffel. "Divide and conquer?" Bill, already de-stuffing stockings into his bag, grinned. "After you." Suddenly, a tiny voice piped up. "Santa?"|(23, 103)