of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of emotional granola. Zorblatt the Magnificent declared: “Henceforth, all snooble-snoots must adhere to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet 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 microphone.