synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the sky. Somewhere, in a heated debate over the blargulator! Fuzzlewhizzing in the mystical land of caws, it belongs to me!" declared MC Daffodil, planting a leek-flag in the Cafe de la Lune on the celestial trampoline. Nerp zerp floopity derp! Skloopity-sklonk! Beneath the infinite yogurt canopy, a legion of sentient crêpes and robotic sheep to spontaneously knit cardigans out of moonlight and daffodils. "Flibber my flow, I’ll slay this show," MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a loaf of bara brith glowing with mystical energy and began rapping faster than