spits

the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of taco-shaped time travel. “Snargle the wibberflop, or suffer the wrath of the quantum bologna!” boomed Admiral Zorptastic, wielding a spatula of infinite recursion. Glibber-splat! A circus