Greg. Plurple nurples squished softly against the bagel vortex, heralding the dawn of the nebulous frobulator. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of croissants. MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He