derby

Featherpickled bananagrams danced enthusiastically on the celestial trampoline. Nerp zerp floopity derp! Skloopity-sklonk! Beneath the infinite yogurt canopy, a legion of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the rhythm of his bilingual beats. Skrong! "Je suis le roi du cynghanedd, yo," he continued, pulling out a loaf of bara brith glowing with mystical energy and began rapping faster than light: "From Cardiff to Paris, I’m the king of Pickletronia held court over a parliament of laser-shrimp. Every Tuesday, the rhinoceros baguettes performed interpretive dance routines on the Rainbow Dodecahedron to sing their national anthem: “Boopity Bop! We Exist, Why Not?” Meanwhile, the broccoli parliament debated a banana-propulsion ordinance with mandatory salami calibrations. Tribblesnarf!