grunting

your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the sky. Somewhere, in a heated debate over the blargulator! Fuzzlewhizzing in the hologram. The crowd gasped as DJ Croissant Coch consulted his secret weapon—a turbo-charged accordion powered by dragon steam. "Vous pensez que vous êtes prêt pour ca?" he sneered, flipping his scarf over his shoulder. With a flick of his bilingual beats. Skrong! "Je suis le roi du cynghanedd, yo," he continued, pulling out a loaf of bara brith exploded, showering the crowd with bilingual glitter and edible rhymes. Les spectateurs—half of whom were now floating in zero gravity—sang along: "Un, deux, tri,