of bara brith exploded, showering the crowd with bilingual glitter and edible rhymes. Les spectateurs—half of whom were now floating in zero gravity—sang along: "Un, deux, tri, let’s all go, Leeks and cheese, c’est le show!" Suddenly, un groupe de dauphins volants wearing berets and bow ties joined the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of waffles debated the merits of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the beat of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of existential dread and happiness molecules floated whimsically past the spleen-shaped moon. "Slizzle your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade