Robby sat back in his sister Lisa’s armchair and watched.
He didn’t much rate Lisa’s new boyfriend. A bit fly, a trumpeter.
Robby had already clocked the tree. “Where’d yer get that?”
“I have contacts.”
Now he was doling out pressies.
A necklace and matching earrings for Lisa. A drone for her father. Leather handbag, gloves and matching purse for her mother. Must have set him back plenty.
“Contacts?” Robby asked him.
Odd they matched the list of stolen goods down at the station. Tomorrow, that braggart would choke on his hubris.
94 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Hubris