unleashed the Eisteddfod Cypher of Chaos, a lyrical weapon so powerful it caused a black hole made entirely of existential dread and happiness molecules floated whimsically past the spleen-shaped moon. "Slizzle your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the mystical land of Flarbenblat, the king of the stage. The badger, stunned, attempted a rebuttal but could only muster an awkward kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of waffles debated the merits of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the