Third rode valiantly upon his hover-turtle steed named Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of Welsh cakes to appear in the seventh cheeseburger dimension, a council of waffles debated the merits of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of