Ajax

prêt pour ca?" he sneered, flipping his scarf over his shoulder. With a dramatic wheeeez-berrrrp, he unleashed Le Râle du Beurre Sale, a sonic wave of Breton energy that smelled faintly of garlic. 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 light: "From Cardiff to Paris, I’m the king of the quantum bologna!” boomed Admiral Zorptastic, wielding a spatula of infinite recursion. Glibber-splat! A circus of telepathic gummy bears assembled on the celestial trampoline. Nerp zerp floopity derp! Skloopity-sklonk!