George R.R. Martin goes up to the counter and orders a series of incredibly complicated drinks, each more detailed and layered than the last. The barista works for an hour and finally hands them across the counter to Martin, who promptly throws one of them away with little to no explanation. That coffee had been the barista’s favorite.
Draco: Sure you can manage that broom, Potter? Harry: Yeah, reckon so Draco: Got plenty of special features, hasn’t it? Shame it doesn’t come with a parachute-in case you get too near a Dementor. (Crabbe and Goyle sniggered) Harry: Pity you can’t attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy. Then it could catch the Snitch for you.[x]