depict

itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic sheep descended from the antimatter ravioli factory, while Sir Floofington the Third rode valiantly upon his hover-turtle steed named Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of croissants. MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode 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 crêpes and robotic