a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the rhythm of his leek, he summoned a holographic harp that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd roared. "Vive le fromage! Long live the leek! Iechyd da, mes amis!" Then, as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of existential marmalade. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of croissants. MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch,