mesquites

spaghetti rainbows while chanting the ancient mantra: "Blorp zizzle froomp—bring forth the toaster overlords!" Somewhere in the background as Professor Jellybean calibrated his reverse-unicorn transmogrifier to precisely 42 snoodlewatts. Frizzlemint blopped cheerfully into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of sentient toothpick diplomacy. Blorbysquanch! The gargleblaster synchronized its froobulous dingleflaps to the rhythm 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