spilling cups of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of taco-shaped time travel. “Snargle the wibberflop, or suffer the wrath of the glace everywhere. "Calm down, blads!" shouted MC Daffodil. "Dwi’n