His rhymes ricocheted across the licorice plains. “Blibber my blorp!” cried Sir Sprinklesworth as he tamed the mighty Cinnamon Roll Dragon with a kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of crystallized rainwater while rapping backup in fluent Klingon. Snizzle-thwack! The battle escalated when MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a loaf of bara brith exploded, showering the crowd with bilingual glitter and edible rhymes. Les spectateurs—half of