As you walk along the Thames pondering what Brexit will mean for you and your family, a soaking wet woman walks up a set of stairs from the river, hands you a package and tells you “Sort it out, please!” before vanishing around a corner. You open the package to find Excalibur.
Hahahaha, hoooooly shit this is a great prompt.
Listen, strange women lying in ponds distributing swords are STILL not a good basis for a system of government. It doesn’t change if she’s lying in a river!
Look, with our leadership right now, it couldn’t make things any worse.
Oh, but you can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you.
Indeed, if I went around saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away.
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