I said, my eyes steely as if trying to gentle a cat so I could get a saddle on it.

Wait. You ride cats? And please don't tell me you were planning on riding El Jeffe in any sense of the word.

The Jefe-weizen stepped back a little as if facing down a madman with a penis shaped truncheon.

Come to think of it, aren't all truncheons vaguely shaped... suchlike?

El Jefe smiled ingratiatingly at me as if I were a cheese sandwich and he, a wanton piece of lettuce.

A wanton peice of lettuce? Now I can't stop imagining it. The next time I eat a cheese sandwich...