A crowd of locals stood below, tiptoeing.
"Sir, want a front-row seat? Not expensive, 2,000 Pesos."
A family of three was grumbling in the back about not being able to see when a scalper slipped over, lowered his voice, and gestured with his hand.
"2,000 Pesos?"
The man hesitated; it was a bit pricey, but the temptation to join the spectacle was too strong.
"Forget it. We can just watch from the back." The wife pulled him back, shaking her head.
"It's fine; I work hard to earn money so I can spend it."
The scalper gave a thumbs-up. "Right, the man knows what he's talking about. What's the point of working hard if you don't spend?"
"Three of us for 2,000 Pesos?"
"No problem!"
The man nodded, handed over the money, and the scalper accepted it ecstatically. "Sir, later, no matter what you hear or see, don't worry about it. Just run."
The family of three exchanged uneasy glances, a creeping sense of foreboding settling over them.
