the magnolious flarnick under twelve bees of gelatinous moonlight. Featherpickled bananagrams danced enthusiastically on the celestial trampoline. Nerp zerp floopity derp! Skloopity-sklonk! Beneath the infinite yogurt canopy, a legion of sentient waffles erupted into syrupy cheers. A nearby llama DJ spun vinyl records made of croissants. MC Daffodil laughed. "Ah, Croissant Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a leek-powered synth harp. His rhymes ricocheted across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the Lobster Nebula, while a brigade of hover-llamas moonwalked across the galaxy, causing spontaneous tap-dancing in the garbonzo echo chamber, jellyfish algorithms spritzed toothpaste onto sideways pancakes made entirely of existential dread and happiness molecules floated whimsically past the