foreplay

The crowd of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the heart of the quantum cheese dimension. "Yo, my beats are leek, my rhymes are rare," he spat, riding a unicycle powered by dragon steam. "Vous pensez que vous êtes prêt pour ca?" he sneered, flipping his scarf over his shoulder. With a dramatic wheeeez-berrrrp, he unleashed Le Râle du Beurre Sale, a sonic wave of Breton energy that smelled faintly of garlic. MC Daffodil hollered as he summoned a holographic harpist named Madame Moutarde to play the Chanson de Gruyere, a tune so powerful it made bilingual baguettes burst into song: "Vive la musique, cymylau a caws!" Bam! Les cochons volants (flying pigs) joined the stage, harmonizing in perfect