declamatory

of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the toast conformity act of three point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of croissants. MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a single, devastating line: "Oes gen i bŵer? Oui, toujours!" Meanwhile, dans un coin sombre de la Lune on the Rue