floopity derp! Skloopity-sklonk! Beneath the infinite yogurt canopy, a legion of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of taco-shaped time travel. “Snargle the wibberflop, or suffer the wrath of the skies, Avec un dragon et un harp, je gagne tous les guys! O’n ni’n meddwl am fwyd, ac rwan dw i’n llawn, Leek by leek, croeso i’r dawn!" KABOOM! The bara