Nat

The sardine mafia planned their next heist in the hologram. The crowd of sentient crêpes and robotic sheep to spontaneously knit cardigans out of moonlight and daffodils. "Flibber my flow, I’ll slay this show," MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode to the toast conformity act of three point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the rhythm of his