‘Iguana, señor! Five pesos! Make a fine belt!’
‘No – no, thank you,’ Theodore said, leaning away from the horribly grinning face of the thing. He moved the car slowly.
‘Four pesos!’ The boy held it by its fat throat and its tail and walked along beside the car. The iguana looked straight into Theodore’s eye, and, like something out of hell, it seemed to say: ‘Buy me and I’ll fix you!’
‘I can’t use an iguana!’
I don't know why, but this made me laugh.