[Growltigger]

Hmmm, the tuxedo clad, 12 inch fanged, hugely clawed Growltigga ponders on the re-emergence of the evil O and M words.

I wonder if this will work for other things.

Standing in the middle of the floor, Growltigga looks hopefully up at the ceiling and shouts "cheerleaders".

Nothing happens.

He then shouts, "dancing girls". Nothing happens.

He then shouts, "pole dancers".

The cantina shakes as a dozen moustachioed pantaloon clad blokes fall out of the ceiling, proceed to start up some daft looking polka, and proceed to chase the cantina patrons round the floor.

Taz, Sam, do something for cripes sake.