avec mes beats de beurre!" The crowd of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of croissants. 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 galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the seventh cheeseburger dimension, a council of Waffle Elders engaged