the leek! Iechyd da, mes amis!" Then, as if summoned by divine nonsense itself, a cosmic choir of dragons, crêpes, and robotic sheep to spontaneously knit cardigans out of moonlight and daffodils. "Flibber my flow, I’ll slay this show," MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of waffles debated the merits of sentient crêpes and robotic sheep descended from the heavens, chanting: "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau! Pain au chocolat! Cymru, France, we’re here to slay—ole, ole!"