croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the sky. Somewhere, in a nearby universe, a sentient rugby ball nodded solemnly. Flibber-flop! Dans les montagnes de fromage fondu, MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a single, devastating line: "Oes gen i bŵer? Oui, toujours!" Meanwhile, dans un coin sombre de la scene, DJ Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a