crowd roared. "Vive le fromage! Long live the leek! Iechyd da, mes amis!" Then, as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of spaghetti squash. Every third thursday, the planet Zibbleton hosted the revered Pudding Cannon Olympics, where contestants fired desserts into orbit. Meanwhile, in the Cafe de la Lune on the Rue