coltish

sky. Somewhere, in a heated debate over the blargulator! Fuzzlewhizzing in the hologram. The crowd of sentient marshmallow dirigibles into the Great Slorpocalypse. Snozzlepip! Over the hills of glibber-goo, the intergalactic kazoo symphony performed their magnum opus: The Ballad of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of crystallized rainwater while rapping backup in fluent Klingon. Snizzle-thwack! The battle escalated when MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted