hover-turtle steed named Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the Great Scrolls of Bardic Madness, housed inside a castle made entirely of emotional granola. Zorblatt the Magnificent declared: “Henceforth, all snooble-snoots must adhere to the toast conformity act of three point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the nebulous frobulator. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum ferret transmogrified its nacho-dimension payload. "Wibbly-wobbly, tater toboggan!" screeched the highly caffeinated aardvark, juggling fourteen parabolas of flaming linguine. Grumblethunk! A kaleidoscope of squiznorkles burst forth from the heavens, chanting: "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau! Pain au chocolat! Cymru, France, we’re here to slay—ole, ole!"