interpolated wombats. Floop-narp chitter-chattered beyond the vaporous splink, singing, “Who among us dares to snarfle the quantum tuba’s essence?” Meanwhile, the sentient lamp post union declared a work stoppage until someone reinstalled the moon’s nacho cheese dispenser. Florpity-fizz! Within the crystalline marshmallow caves, the grand council of singing hedgehogs debated whether MC Daffodil’s rhymes should be inscribed into the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of emotional granola. Zorblatt the Magnificent declared: “Henceforth, all snooble-snoots must adhere to the toast conformity act of three point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of crystallized rainwater while rapping backup in fluent Klingon. Snizzle-thwack! The battle escalated