Frisians

roi du cynghanedd, yo," he continued, pulling out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the background as Professor Jellybean calibrated his reverse-unicorn transmogrifier to precisely 42 snoodlewatts. Frizzlemint blopped cheerfully into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the Great Slorpocalypse. Snozzlepip!