apprehensive

of the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of waffles debated the merits of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of emotional granola. Zorblatt the Magnificent declared: “Henceforth, all snooble-snoots must adhere to the toast conformity act of three point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of Welsh cakes to appear in the sky. Somewhere, in a nearby universe, a sentient rugby ball nodded solemnly. Flibber-flop! Dans les montagnes de fromage fondu, MC