Cardiff to Paris, I’m the king of the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode to the rhythm of his leek, he summoned a holographic harp that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd roared. "Vive le fromage! Long live the leek! Iechyd da, mes amis!" Then, as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps