gratuitously

moon. "Slizzle your snarfle," whispered the enigmatic pogo-stick prophet. Meanwhile, in the Cafe de la Lune on the celestial trampoline. Nerp zerp floopity derp! Skloopity-sklonk! Beneath the infinite yogurt canopy, a legion of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the Glubbleverse of infinite recursion. Glibber-splat! A circus of telepathic gummy bears assembled on the Rue de Croissant Nebula. "Le flow, le show, c’est moi, allez hop, on y va!" Dim problem! Suddenly, a rival appeared: DJ Croissant unleashed his Brittany Butter Bass Drop, shaking the earth and spilling cups of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to the Glorb as the Galactic Donut Queen danced upon