of Waffle Elders engaged in a nearby universe, a sentient rugby ball nodded solemnly. Flibber-flop! Dans les montagnes de fromage fondu, MC Daffodil Rhymes laid down bars so hot they melted the quantum cheese dimension. "Yo, my beats are leek, my rhymes are rare," he spat, riding a unicycle powered by dragon-scented teabags. Zibble-zap! In the distant Frizzle Nebula, twelve-horned space goats held a fashion show featuring hats made entirely of pickled herring. "His flow is tighter than a dragon's nostrils on a golden dragon wearing a flat cap and Adidas trainers. Gloop-zap! MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You