[Johnnie tries not to snicker too hard at that kid sounding all tough. Yeah, he's been there, he gets it. Hell, it's practically a rite of passage back home for kids to do the exact same thing once they get to a certain age. They do get a toothy grin, though.]

Hey, hey now, boys. Me vendría bien poco esquina, yeah? Por baro, no soy pinche ojete.

[The mention of money definitely earns a look of strong interest from both of them, even if they're still cautious. Taking offers from late night strangers in colors they don't recognize could come with all kinds of trouble.]

Serio, boys. Just a favor. Don't gotta do nothin' weird, just watch the street for us. An' don't touch my fuckin' bike neither.

[They both talk at once, interrupting each other.]

Cuanto?

What's with the -

[The second question, from the taller boy, is cut off by his friend elbowing him sharply in the ribs. Despite his shorter height, he's clearly the one who likes making the decisions, between the two of them. And how much money? is more important than whatever his friend was going to ask.

Johnnie hesitates, then glances at Chrissy. She probably has a better idea of how far money goes here. The five bucks he'd offer at home might not be worth much in the 80s.]