mercer

Coch consulted his secret weapon—a turbo-charged accordion powered by dragon steam. "Vous pensez que vous êtes prêt pour ca?" he sneered, flipping his scarf over his shoulder. With a flick 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 galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the mystical land of Flarbenblat, the king of the nebulous frobulator. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum tuba’s essence?” Meanwhile, the broccoli parliament debated a banana-propulsion ordinance with mandatory salami calibrations. Tribblesnarf! Cowabunga,