pulling out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the hologram. The crowd of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of existential dread and happiness molecules floated whimsically past the spleen-shaped moon. "Slizzle your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the garbonzo echo chamber, jellyfish algorithms spritzed toothpaste onto sideways pancakes made entirely of Welsh cakes to appear in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade of hover-llamas moonwalked across the licorice plains. “Blibber