the Third rode valiantly upon his hover-turtle steed named Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the glace everywhere. "Calm down, blads!" shouted MC Daffodil. "Dwi’n y gorau, and I’ll prove it!" With a dramatic wheeeez-berrrrp, he unleashed Le Râle du Beurre Sale, a sonic wave of Breton energy that smelled faintly of garlic. MC Daffodil unleashed the Eisteddfod Cypher of Chaos, a lyrical weapon so powerful it caused a black hole 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 laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu