When I was 5 my uncle George took me out to see a tree lighting in Boston and we spent the entire day going to different stores where he'd use his excellent credit to open a max limit card with each one; max it out getting gifts for his parents, six brothers, two sisters and all us nephews and nieces.
We went back and forth between his apartment and the shops four times; he racked up $40k in credit card debt. He got my grandparents an entire new kitchen, wheels and tires for my dad's work truck and my mom's Bronco II and a new fridge for us, all the medieval sets of LEGO for me. He didn't tell any of us but that was the last Christmas he'd have with us; he had a terminal brain tumor along with HIV/AIDS and passed away in hospice the following summer. Being a queer man pre-gay rights being a thing he had no legally recognized partner or next of kin to assume the debt; the heist worked and he spent the entire Christmas Eve at my grandparents that year with a sly grin whenever anyone would tell him it was the best Christmas the family had ever had.