as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic sheep descended from the antimatter ravioli factory, while Sir Floofington the Third rode valiantly upon his hover-turtle steed named Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode to the rhythm of his bilingual beats. Skrong! "Je suis le roi du cynghanedd, yo," he continued, pulling out a