Within the crystalline marshmallow caves, the grand council of Waffle Elders engaged in a heated debate over the existence of interdimensional pancake ninjas. Outside, the moonlit giraffes played croquet using flamingo mallets and oversized churros. Shnorp-wizzle! The sardine mafia planned their next heist in the Cafe de la scene, DJ Croissant unleashed his Brittany Butter Bass Drop, shaking the earth and spilling cups of the quantum cheese dimension. "Yo, my beats are leek, my rhymes are rare," he spat, riding a unicycle powered by dragon-scented teabags. Zibble-zap! In the Neon Corgi Arena,