Draft
Arthur scowled. He couldn't write the damn speech. It was hopeless.
Merlin came in and saw him with his hands on his head.
"Arthur?"
"Speech. Write it."
"But I don't want to write-"
"I'm the king Merlin. Write the damned speech!"
"Yes Sire."
Twenty minutes later, and Merlin handed him a draft.
"There you go."
Arthur was flabbergasted.
"But I... I spent three hours on it and got nothing."
"Erm... Oops?"
"Merlin?"
"Yes Sire?"
"This is a draft."
"Yes Sire...?"
"Write it in neat."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"... Yes Sire."
Arthur grinned. Life was good when you're king.
