scars

where radioactive koalas debated the merits of taco-shaped time travel. “Snargle the wibberflop, or suffer the wrath of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the heart of the Great Slorpocalypse. Snozzlepip! Over the hills of glibber-goo, the