In the dimly lit alley behind the quaint bakery, Molly and Bill huddled over a crude map, their breath visible in the crisp night air. The party was two minutes away, the destination marked with a red dot. "You sure about this, Bill?" Molly asked, not looking up from the map. "We're not stealing presents," Bill retorted, "We're liberating them. For the betterment of society." Molly rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just make sure you don't make a mess, okay? I'm not cleaning up after you if anything goes wrong." Bill smirked, "Trust me, Molly, I've got this. Just hold down the fort, would ya?" Molly sighed, "Fine, but if the cops show up, I'm not talking to you." Bill winked, "Wouldn't dream of it." They stood, the plan in motion. Molly followed Bill as he melted into the shadows, the bakery's warm glow casting long, dancing figures on the alley wall. The night was young, and the party was about to get... interesting.