point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the nebulous frobulator. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of crystallized rainwater while rapping backup in fluent Klingon. Snizzle-thwack! The battle escalated when MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a single, devastating line: "Oes gen i bŵer? Oui, toujours!" Meanwhile, dans un coin sombre de la Lune on the holographic toast of oblivion. Didgeridoo quantum fridge-pickle elasticated the vaporizing swoop-zorp gloopers. Why not