waistcoat

pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of existential marmalade. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, 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 center of the skies, Avec un dragon et un harp, je gagne tous les guys! O’n ni’n meddwl am fwyd, ac rwan dw i’n llawn, Leek by leek, croeso i’r dawn!" KABOOM! The 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,