On another of his self-mandated smoking breaks, Jordan peeked out from between two of the plastic trees ringing Santa's grotto, looking across the store to the faux stable that occupied the far wall, replete with fake snow, hay bales, and a sleeping plastic baby Jesus in a manger. There were even two real donkeys for the kids to pet, and one very fake angel for the dads.
"Look at that showboating bastard. Thinks he's king of nativity town just cause he's the centerpiece. It was meant to be my turn in the angel suit this year," Jordan growled venomously, as the life-sized angel doll pranced up to a male customer and flung her slender porcelain arms about him, pressing her heavenly orbs against his chest. "Another donation for the 'church choir'," Jordan said cynically as the man stuffed a handful of dollar bills into the cleft of the angel's breasts, copping a feel at the same time. "How much do you reckon he takes home every night?"
"More than we make, man, " his friend said beside him, a turkey-themed doll boasting an abundance of turkey breast. The voice from its mask was a deep baritone. The turkey accepted Jordan's cigarette and wedged it into the ventilation hole of its beak.
No sooner had the satisfied customer moved on than the Angel was squirting sanitizing gel over her alabaster moneymakers, attentively polishing herself with a cloth, scrubbing away the grubby fingerprints until her chest once again shone resplendently for the next customer. Satisfied, the angel paced up and down her stable like a caged animal until she spied her prey - a middle-aged man weighed down with Christmas shopping who had wandered too far from the safety of his wife.
The doll stalked after him, wrapping him in her arms and wings. The poor man tried to squirm away but, burdened with shopping bags and cocooned in her wings, there was no escape as 'her' hands roamed insistently, teasing between the man's legs and squeezing his rear. The man yelped, glancing around the store in terror that his wife might be watching, then threw a wad of cash at her and ran, cupping his erection.
Only a few meters away from the Santa's Grotto display, the angel crouched to collect her winnings. Jordan thrust his head out through the plastic branches.
"Psst! Hey, asshole! Stop poaching the good ones on our turf! Your side of the store is over there! Get back to your side!"
The doll leveled its middle finger at them, pirouetted on its heel, and strutted back to its spot amongst the display with a practiced, feminine wiggle to its gait. Returning to its favorite spot among the display where it liked to await its next victim, it knelt in the hay between the statues of the Three Wise Men, its hands clasped together in prayer.
Jordan spat. "Like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth."
"Word on the grapevine is there's something else that melts in his mouth..." said the turkey.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Heard he sucked off a customer who gave him $200."
"I bet he did."