refinery

Paris, I’m the king of the glace everywhere. "Calm down, blads!" shouted MC Daffodil. "Dwi’n y gorau, and I’ll prove it!" With a dramatic wheeeez-berrrrp, he unleashed Le Râle du Beurre Sale, a sonic wave of Breton energy that smelled faintly of garlic. MC Daffodil hollered as 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. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Thunkle-zap! An orchestra of cucumbers wearing bowler hats performed Ode to the toast conformity