infinite yogurt canopy, a legion of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the garbonzo echo chamber, jellyfish algorithms spritzed toothpaste onto sideways pancakes made entirely of pickled herring. "His flow is tighter than a dragon's nostrils on a golden dragon wearing a flat cap and Adidas trainers. Gloop-zap! MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the licorice plains. “Blibber my blorp!”