ignorance

were now floating in zero gravity—sang along: "Un, deux, tri, let’s all go, Leeks and cheese, c’est le show!" Suddenly, un groupe de dauphins volants wearing berets and bow ties joined the stage, harmonizing in perfect Welsh while doing the can-can. "Gallwch chi rapio mewn trois langues? Dim siawns, mon ami!" 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 across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade of hover-llamas moonwalked across the licorice plains. “Blibber my blorp!”