Jack looks at the mating indentation in the floor just between the now horizontal wooden surface and the stair.
He holds a hand up to stop people from entering.
Hold up-- I smells a rat.
Wasting only a moment of time to contemplate (very strongly) the wisdom of the action, he tugs on the knot holding the metal moron's bindings together, and gives it a yank. The armored bufoon spins around like a top, and bangs against the wall making sounds of protest, followed by sounds of joy, while Jack collects the blanket.
Y'all stay right there till mama and me get back 'ere, ya'hear?! he intoned forcefully.
I don wanna have to waste 'nuther potion to get this gall-durn thing op'n again just a 'cause ya all a bunch a [plural expletives deleted]. Gimme a bit, and we'll keep this magical piece o [expletive deleted] from closin behin' us.
He knelt to the ground, and looked at the bear.
C'mon Mama, let's go get dirty!
And with that, the hobo takes the blanket, and disappears out the front door of the tower.
Walking past the goblin statue, he gives it an obscene hand gesture as he walks past, before disappearing around the edge of the wall. Some 10 minutes or so later, he and mama bear both return, completely covered in mud from head to foot, dragging a very heavy makeshift "bag" filled with something clearly filthy, leaving muddy footprints and a trail of gooey mud behind them.
They drag it through the immaculately clean entry way, and to the door, then begin packing the recess with bits of dug up flint rock and cleachy mud, until instead of a recess, there is a clear (but easily stepped over) furrow of concreted rocks and muck in its place.
He looks very pleased with himself.