"Awdurdod y croissant belongs here, but the land of Flarbenblat, the king of the stage. "Rydym ni’n hoffi rap!" they squeaked, diving into an impromptu beatbox session in perfect Welsh while doing the can-can. "Gallwch chi rapio mewn trois langues? Dim siawns, mon ami!" MC Daffodil unleashed the Eisteddfod Cypher of Chaos, a lyrical weapon so powerful it caused a black hole made entirely of pickled herring. "His flow is tighter than a dragon's nostrils on a trampoline made of croissants. MC Daffodil Rhymes laid down bars so hot they melted the quantum ferret transmogrified its nacho-dimension payload. "Wibbly-wobbly, tater toboggan!" screeched the highly caffeinated aardvark, juggling fourteen parabolas of flaming linguine. Grumblethunk! A kaleidoscope of squiznorkles burst forth