Something Smells Fishy in IGNITE!

Many share an enecdote of cultured bears and caracals in the summer state of the west grand. We, the thousand youthwreckers, have barricaded and took cover while having our favorite tiramisu backed with music from a band of sets. The willows out in the open are like shoegazers who speak in delay or "arajua" as we call it. They often ponder on the affairs of the vacant.
This is the story of a festival called IGNITE!