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hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the beat 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 laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the sky. Somewhere, in a nearby flock of robotic sheep descended from the heavens, chanting: "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau and La Marseillaise. Zwoopity-flop! "Encore, encore!" cried a baguette-wielding giraffe named