"Oy, you see that pile o' shiny new toys? That's our ticket outta this shithole. Just like I planned." Molly grinned wickedly as she surveyed the colorful mounds of wrapped presents stacked high in the center of the party hall. Streamers dangled from the ceiling and balloons bobbed merrily along the walls, but her eyes gleamed with avarice rather than childlike wonder. She turned to Bill, her accomplice and occasional lover, with a mischievous smirk playing across her lips. "You're tellin' me we can just waltz in there while them brats are busy with their pin the tail on the donkey, swipe the goodies, and be out before anyone notices? No one's gonna think to look for us 'till after the party's over and the little darlings start cryin' 'bout their missing gifts. We're gonna be halfway across the city with our pockets lined before the first tear falls!" Bill let out a rasping chuckle. "Damn straight, dollface. Ain't no one gonna suspect a thing 'til it's too late. Those soft-handed rich folks don't have a clue what we're capable of. I say we move in, snag the loot, and get the hell out of Dodge before them bratty rug rats notice anything amiss." He winked roguishly at Molly and patted the bulge in his jacket where he kept his trusty lock picks. They had been planning this score for weeks, watching the house and figuring out the best time to strike. The party would provide the perfect distraction and cover for their heist. With a final conspiratorial grin, the two hardened thieves crept toward the back door, ready to slip inside and claim their ill-gotten treasure. <|end_header_id|>