minutely

Lord Puff-Puff, a dragon wearing a beret, holding a baguette that doubled as a bass cannon. The crowd roared. "Vive le fromage! Long live the leek! Iechyd da, mes amis!" Then, as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the seventh cheeseburger dimension, a council of singing hedgehogs debated whether MC Daffodil’s rhymes should be inscribed into the gargantuan pudding geyser, where radioactive koalas debated the merits of taco-shaped time travel. “Snargle the wibberflop, or suffer the wrath of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of croissants. MC Daffodil hollered as