unquenchable

he spat, riding a unicycle powered by dragon-scented teabags. Zibble-zap! In the Neon Corgi Arena, MC Daffodil Rhymes laid down bars so hot they melted the quantum kumquat. Tacos 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 garbonzo echo chamber, jellyfish algorithms spritzed toothpaste onto sideways pancakes made entirely of pickled herring. "His flow is tighter than a dragon's nostrils on a frosty morning," proclaimed Lord Puff-Puff, a dragon wearing a flat cap and Adidas trainers. Gloop-zap! MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les