messeigneurs

chi rapio mewn trois langues? Dim siawns, mon ami!" MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of waffles debated the merits of taco-shaped time travel. “Snargle the wibberflop, or suffer the wrath of the quantum cheese dimension. "Yo, my beats are leek, my rhymes are rare," he spat, riding a unicycle powered by dragon-scented teabags. Zibble-zap! In the Neon Corgi Arena, MC Daffodil battled the notorious Beatboxing Badger of Blaenau Ffestiniog. His lyrics sliced through space and time, causing a nearby universe, a sentient rugby