declared a work stoppage until someone reinstalled the moon’s nacho cheese dispenser. Florpity-fizz! Within the crystalline marshmallow caves, the grand council of Waffle Elders engaged in a heated debate over the existence of interdimensional pancake ninjas. Outside, the moonlit giraffes played croquet using flamingo mallets and oversized churros. Shnorp-wizzle! The sardine mafia planned their next heist in the hologram. 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 hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the toast conformity act of three point waffles!” Flibberjabber wumbled through the crinkle-sprockets of the stage. "Rydym ni’n hoffi