"You sure about this, Molly?" Bill whispered, peering through the lace curtain. "It's a *kid's* party." "Precisely, Bill. Peak vulnerability. Childhood innocence, a goldmine of unattended joy... and presents. So many presents. Did you see that giant unicorn plush?" Molly's eyes gleamed. "Yeah, but what if we get caught? By a seven-year-old? My reputation can’t handle that." "Relax. We'll be ninjas. Stealthy. Silent. Like a fart in a hurricane. We wait until the cake comes out, total distraction. Then, WHOOSH! Presents under the tree? Gone." "And the parents? They'll notice." "They'll blame each other. Or Santa. Kids don't know Santa steals presents, right?" "I… don't think so. Mostly he just brings them." "Exactly! So who’s the real hero here? Us, for providing a valuable life lesson in impermanence?" "I guess… you really think this is a good idea." "Better than that time we tried to rob a library. Remember Mrs. Higgins? She *shushed* us into submission." "Point taken. Okay, the unicorn is pretty epic. Let’s do it."