savage!" he rapped, as the Galactic Donut Queen danced upon a trampoline made of croissants. MC Daffodil hollered as he summoned a holographic harp that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd of sentient crêpes and robotic sheep descended from the antimatter ravioli factory, while Sir Floofington the Third rode valiantly upon his hover-turtle steed named Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of singing hedgehogs debated whether MC Daffodil’s rhymes should be inscribed into the heart of the Gloobulax Nebula. Pangolins pirouetted through