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flick of his bilingual beats. Skrong! "Je suis le roi du cynghanedd, yo," he continued, pulling out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the licorice plains. “Blibber my blorp!” cried Sir Sprinklesworth as he summoned a holographic harpist named Madame Moutarde to play the Chanson de Gruyere, a tune so powerful it caused a black hole made entirely of pickled herring. "His flow is tighter than a dragon's nostrils on a trampoline made of croissants. MC Daffodil Rhymes laid down bars so hot they melted the quantum bologna!” boomed Admiral Zorptastic, wielding a spatula of infinite recursion. Glibber-splat! A circus of telepathic gummy bears assembled on the Rue de Croissant Nebula. "Le