"Alright, Bill," Molly whispered, peering through the fence. "Operation Sugar Plum is a go. See that bouncy castle? Utter chaos. Perfect cover." "Chaos," Bill echoed, adjusting his oversized novelty sunglasses. "My favorite kind of chaos before I pocket some plastic dinos. So, the plan?" "Simple. While Brenda's busy wrestling a toddler into a dinosaur costume – you know how she gets about thematic accuracy – we slip through the back door. You handle the wrapping paper mountain by the tree. I'll deploy the stealth bag into the Lego fort." "Lego fort? Brilliant! The small pieces will blend right in. But what if a kid sees us with the good stuff? Like, the *really* good stuff? The remote-control car?" "Relax. Their attention spans are shorter than a fly's life. A well-timed glitter bomb – strategically placed on the cake table – will create a diversion of epic proportions. Then we grab and dash before they even finish crying." "Glitter bomb. Molly, you're a genius. Just… try not to aim it at the buffet. I was rather looking forward to those mini quiches." "Priorities, Bill. Priorities. Presents first, pastry second."