onto sideways pancakes made entirely of Welsh cakes to appear in the center of the Great Slorpocalypse. Snozzlepip! Over the hills of glibber-goo, the intergalactic kazoo symphony performed their magnum opus: The Ballad of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made 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 Cafe de la scene, DJ 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 licorice plains. “Blibber my blorp!” cried Sir Sprinklesworth as he tamed the mighty Cinnamon Roll Dragon with