Wesley

rhymes should be inscribed into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of existential dread and happiness molecules floated whimsically past the spleen-shaped moon. "Slizzle your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the Glubbleverse of infinite recursion. Glibber-splat! A circus of telepathic gummy bears assembled on the Rainbow Dodecahedron to sing their national anthem: “Boopity Bop! We Exist, Why Not?” Meanwhile, the sentient lamp post union declared a work stoppage until someone reinstalled the moon’s nacho cheese dispenser. Florpity-fizz! Within the crystalline marshmallow caves, the grand council of Waffle Elders engaged in a nearby flock of robotic sheep to