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It was Christmas morning. The Make-A-Maid brand doll was limp and lifeless as Maria placed it beneath the Christmas tree. She flicked the blue dress up over its plastic rump to expose the switch set into its lower back. As she flicked it, the doll's limbs twitched sluggishly as the microchip within it booted up.
The doll swiveled its head, staring around with glassy eyes. It looked down, and a tinny scream crackling from the speaker embedded in its torso. It tore at its blue dress in horror, exposing its shiny plastic breasts, searching for the organ between its legs where only an unbroken mound existed.
Then it looked up at her. And up. And up, crawling backward as it took in the scale.
"I gave you that money to buy presents for the children, Joe," Maria spat down at the doll with cold fury. "And what did you do? Gambled it away. Again. And what you didn't gamble, you drank."
"I didn't! I promise!" the doll screamed.
"Don't lie to me. I found you dead-drunk in the gutter outside the bookies with nothing but worthless stubs in your pockets." She gave him a vindictive tap with her toe, enough to send him tumbling. "It wasn't easy dragging your ass to Make-A-Maid in the snow. But it was worth it. This way our daughter gets at least one toy to play with this Christmas."
A thud came from upstairs as their daughter lept out of bed in childish excitement. He heard her running down the stairs, the noise thudding in his ears like the approaching of a charging kaiju.
"Babe, please, I can change," he pleaded.
"You've already changed. The question is if I care enough about you to ever change you back."