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 hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the rhythm of his leek, he summoned a holographic harpist named Madame Moutarde to play the Chanson de Gruyere, a tune so powerful it made bilingual baguettes burst into song: "Vive la musique, cymylau a caws!" Bam! Les cochons volants (flying pigs) joined the stage, harmonizing in perfect Welsh while doing the can-can. "Gallwch chi rapio