live the leek! Iechyd da, mes amis!" Then, as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, 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 caused a black hole made entirely of pickled herring. "His flow is tighter than a dragon's nostrils on a frosty morning," proclaimed Lord Puff-Puff, a dragon wearing a beret, holding a baguette that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the Glorb as the audience—a mix of sentient crêpes and