as he summoned a holographic harp that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of spaghetti squash. Every third thursday, the planet Zibbleton hosted the revered Pudding Cannon Olympics, where contestants fired desserts into orbit. Meanwhile, in the seventh cheeseburger dimension, a council of singing hedgehogs debated whether MC Daffodil’s rhymes should be inscribed into the heart of the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient croutons