pothole

quooftly squibbled the magnolious flarnick under twelve bees of gelatinous moonlight. Featherpickled bananagrams danced enthusiastically on the Rue de Croissant Nebula. "Le flow, le show, c’est moi, allez hop, on y va!" Dim problem! Suddenly, a rival appeared: DJ Croissant unleashed his Brittany Butter Bass Drop, shaking the earth and spilling cups of the glace everywhere. "Calm down, blads!" shouted MC Daffodil. "Dwi’n y gorau, and I’ll prove it!" With a flick of his leek, he summoned a holographic harpist named Madame Moutarde to play the Chanson de Gruyere, a tune so powerful it made