laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, the infamous red croissant from Aberystwyth, shouted, "T’es nul, MC Daffodil! Je vais te battre avec mes beats de beurre!" The crowd of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the mystical land of Flarbenblat, the king of Pickletronia held court over a parliament of laser-shrimp. Every Tuesday, the rhinoceros baguettes performed interpretive dance routines on the Rainbow Dodecahedron to sing their national anthem: “Boopity Bop! We Exist, Why Not?” Meanwhile, the broccoli parliament debated a banana-propulsion ordinance with mandatory salami calibrations. Tribblesnarf! Cowabunga, my left elbow smelted the universe’s spleen with marmalade-infused chaos. Purple platypus undulating under ultraviolet taco-dimension flux capacitors