A little like Patricia Marx's cleavagey, from March 2010.
From "The Stolen Cloned Mammoth," a short story by Shane Castle in the Winter 2011 issue of Indiana Review:
In blogs, the mammoth's theft was most often attributed to aliens--foreign and intergalactic--or to a stunt hatched at Democratic Party Headquarters intended to make Republicans look archaic and stampedey.
The story has some charm. I'm not sure about how everything brings the reader to the ending to which it brings the reader, but there's some funny Internet language riffs. The ending itself has a nice beginning. And the story does have a mammoth.
There is something going around with mammoths. The cynic says its copycat stuff. The true child says there's something in the collective unconscious making people yearn for woolly mammoths.
A few months ago I saw a play (seemed to me it got lost on its way to West 40-something Street and wound up in New Jersey) called "Seven Homeless Mammoths Wander New England." The cast included two actors who played diorama people. Frankly, I'd like to see the play again just for the diorama people and those actors. I could see those parts becoming the kind of parts people fight for and rotate into on a regular basis. Definitely an inspired set piece, the diorama.
Stampedey is more stampede-y than is stampedy, which is more stamping.