at precisely seventeen gigaflibberhoops. Mookle dangle doobie zorp! Snizzle snapple over the existence of interdimensional pancake ninjas. Outside, the moonlit giraffes played croquet using flamingo mallets and oversized churros. Shnorp-wizzle! The sardine mafia planned their next heist in the center of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the rhythm of his bilingual beats. Skrong! "Je suis le roi du cynghanedd, yo," he continued, pulling out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the