"Right, Bill, operation 'Santa Slapdash' is a go," Molly whispered, her eye glinting under the flickering streetlamp. "Santa Slapdash, eh? Bit dramatic, Mol. Sounds like we're gonna wrestle a jolly man in a red suit for a sack of toys." Bill adjusted his ill-fitting ski mask. "Precisely! Except the jolly man is a fourteen-year-old with a receding hairline and questionable hygiene, and the sack of toys is a mountain of Christmas presents ripe for the… liberation." Molly gestured grandly towards the brightly lit house across the street. "Liberation. I like that. Sounds so much more noble than 'borrowing indefinitely'." Bill let out a wheezing chuckle. "So, the target demographic? Toddlers?" "Mostly. And a few brats who wouldn't know good chocolate if it slapped them in the face and sang carols. The parents are out for the count, apparently at some fancy gala. Hence, the perfect window." "And the security?" Bill squinted. "I didn't see any laser grids, or attack poodles trained in Krav Maga." "Relax, Bill. This isn’t Fort Knox. The only ‘security’ is a slightly-too-enthusiastic golden retriever named 'Sparky' and a motion-activated singing fish mounted above the fireplace." "A singing fish? Is this some kind of avant-garde performance art heist?" Bill frowned. "No, it's just tacky, Bill. Very, very tacky. The fish, when it senses movement, unleashes 'Don't Worry, Be Happy'. We'll use that to our advantage. When the fish starts warbling, that's our cue to duck." "So, our escape plan involves being musically serenaded by Bobby McFerrin's ghost?" "Something like that. Now, the entry point. The back door. The little darling who lives there," Molly lowered her voice conspiratorially, "apparently has a penchant for leaving it unlocked after midnight for her ‘imaginary dragon friend’. Her name is Tiffany." "Tiffany. Of course. And the dragon?" "Is probably imaginary. But the unlocked door is very real. We go in, grab the loot, and we’re out before Sparky even finishes wagging his tail at the pizza guy. Timing is everything, Bill. Think Swiss watch, not cuckoo clock run by a squirrel." "Right, right. Swiss watch. So, we’re talking swift, silent, and… sparkly?" Bill gestured to the sequined patches on Molly’s jacket. "The sequins are for morale, genius. Now, the breakdown. You’re on distraction duty. You… make bird noises. Loudly. Near the window." "Bird noises? What kind of birds?" Bill sounded genuinely concerned. "Because I can do a pretty mean pigeon, but I haven't perfected my parrot." "Just generic, slightly alarming bird noises. Think disgruntled robin. The goal is to draw Sparky, and possibly Tiffany’s parents if they’ve decided to ‘pop in’ for a midnight cuddle. While the canine chaos ensues, I'll be inside, gathering our festive bounty." "And what if Tiffany's dragon friend is, in fact, a very large and territorial Bearded Dragon with a taste for expensive Lego sets?" "Then, Bill, we’ll have a story to tell. Now, synchronize your watches. Not that you have one. Just… sync your internal clocks. On three. One. Two. And… three! Let the Santa Slapdash commence!"