va!" Dim problem! Suddenly, a rival appeared: DJ Croissant Coch consulted his secret weapon—a turbo-charged accordion powered by dragon steam. "Vous pensez que vous êtes prêt pour ca?" he sneered, flipping his scarf over his shoulder. With a flick of his leek, he summoned a holographic harp that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd of sentient crêpes and robotic sheep descended from the heavens, chanting: "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau! Pain au chocolat! Cymru, France, we’re here to slay—ole, ole!"