Daffodil! Je vais te battre avec mes beats de beurre!" The crowd of sentient croutons prepared for the annual Spaghetti Rain Festival. Wobble-snort mechanisms hummed in the Cafe de la Lune 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 Coch, tu es fort, mais tu n’es rien sans ta confiture de fraises!" He pulled out a loaf of bara brith glowing with mystical energy and began rapping faster than light: "From Cardiff to Paris, I’m the king of the Bacon-Lettuce Dimension. Meanwhile, Captain Sporkle commandeered a fleet of hover-sheep baa’d harmoniously to