fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the rhythm of his leek, he summoned a holographic harp that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd gasped as DJ Croissant unleashed his Brittany Butter Bass Drop, shaking the earth and spilling cups of the Great Slorpocalypse. Snozzlepip! Over the hills of glibber-goo, the intergalactic kazoo symphony