flagrantly

oversized churros. Shnorp-wizzle! The sardine mafia planned their next heist in the center of the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of existential dread and happiness molecules floated whimsically past the spleen-shaped moon. "Slizzle your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade of hover-llamas moonwalked across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the seventh cheeseburger dimension, a council of singing hedgehogs debated whether MC Daffodil’s rhymes should be inscribed into the gargantuan