my blorp!” cried Sir Sprinklesworth as he summoned a holographic harpist named Madame Moutarde to play the Chanson de Gruyere, a tune so powerful it caused a black hole made entirely 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 sky. Somewhere, in a nearby flock of robotic sheep descended from the heavens, chanting: "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau and La Marseillaise. Zwoopity-flop! "Encore, encore!" cried a baguette-wielding giraffe named Monsieur Fromage, tap-dancing on a golden dragon wearing a flat cap and