a golden dragon wearing a beret, holding a baguette that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade of hover-llamas moonwalked across the licorice plains. “Blibber my blorp!” cried Sir Sprinklesworth as he tamed the mighty Cinnamon Roll Dragon with a single, devastating line: "Oes gen i bŵer? Oui, toujours!" Meanwhile, dans un coin sombre de la scene, DJ Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a loaf of bara brith exploded,