plovers

es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the sky. Somewhere, in a heated debate over the blargulator! Fuzzlewhizzing in the background as Professor Jellybean calibrated his reverse-unicorn transmogrifier to precisely 42 snoodlewatts. Frizzlemint blopped cheerfully into the heart of the stage. "Rydym ni’n hoffi rap!" they squeaked, diving into an impromptu beatbox session in perfect Welsh. "Mae’r byd yn blasu fel pain au chocolat heddiw!" Plunk-thwack! The stage began transforming into a massive holographic map of Europe. "Awdurdod y croissant belongs here, but the land of caws, it belongs to me!" declared