avec un cri puissant: "Croeso i’r cynghanedd, bois bach! Ça va chauffer ici!" He rode in on a trampoline made 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 mystical land of caws, it belongs to me!" declared MC Daffodil, planting a leek-flag in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade of hover-llamas moonwalked across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the background as Professor Jellybean calibrated his reverse-unicorn