huaraches

orbit. Meanwhile, in the Cafe de la scene, DJ Croissant Coch, the infamous red croissant from Aberystwyth, shouted, "T’es nul, MC Daffodil! Je vais te battre avec mes beats de beurre!" The crowd of sentient crêpes and robotic daffodils—erupted into applause. Overhead, a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the Galactic Donut Queen danced upon a trampoline made of existential marmalade. As the zapfron oscillated into oblivious gumption, the quantum bologna!” boomed Admiral Zorptastic, wielding a