[Cipher7071]

After his third giant mug of ale, Sam begins to get bored. Looking around the room, he narrowly eyes the newly-made statuary depiction of the 'Gryphin position.'

"Where in tar-nation did that con-sarn thing come from? Looks like some varmint skinnin' a mule."

Sam walks over to the composition and gives it a good kick, at which point the electrostatically held component particles fall into a not-so-neat heap on the floor, raising a puff of dust into the air. Then he dashes around the bar, hastily puts on an apron, grabs a huge push-broom, and sweeps the entire mess out the door. He comes back in, coughing and choking from the dust, and orders another mug of ale.