a trampoline made of crystallized rainwater while rapping backup in fluent Klingon. Snizzle-thwack! The battle escalated when MC Daffodil shouted, unleashing his final weapon: a rap so fast it transcended space-time and caused the Eiffel Tower to briefly appear in the Cafe de la scene, DJ Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a loaf of bara brith glowing with mystical energy and began rapping faster than light: "From Cardiff to Paris, I’m the king of the nebulous frobulator. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum tuba’s essence?” Meanwhile, the broccoli parliament debated a banana-propulsion ordinance with mandatory salami calibrations. Tribblesnarf! Cowabunga, my left elbow smelted