"Oh Crap," murmured Arthur as the sword he had leant on started to bend. Once is reached a right angle from the stone base Arthur managed up pull himself upright. The sword in the stone didn't look nearly as impressive now. A fair portion of Arthur's slightly fuzzed mind said he would never hear the end of this one. knowing he had to do something, but now quite sure what, he grabbed the hilt of the remarkably bendable weapon and tried to pull it back into being straight.
It kind of worked.
Arthur braced both his feet on the stone on either side of the crooked blade and used his weight to lever it back into a more or less vertical position.
Evidently, more rather than less.
Arthur regretted never actually bothering to go on all those runs as his weight continued to pull on the sword, past the traditional upright point.
He regretted it even more as his momentum carried him farther along, so that he fell off the base of the stone and landed on his derrière.
Yet again, he managed to regret it farther as the sword slipped out of its hold in the stone, and managed to slam the leather encased steel hilt in his meat and two veg.
"By Christ!"
"Do you realise what you've just done?" Asked a small, crooked, old (admittedly smelly) man in a dusty blue robe and a crooked blue nightcap with silver and gold stars (The glitter was falling off), along with a very out of fashion goatee and crooked glasses with no glass, the sort people buy who don't need glasses to see, but wear them because they think it makes them look more intelligent, even if it doesn't. (In fact, most of the time it makes them look like gullible fools for buying glasses, with no actual glass, which defeats the purpose, now doesn't it?). In all the old man had the look of a very cheap, often chewed, pencil that was nearing it's used by date. (I don't care if pencils actually have a used by date or not, in this metaphor, they do! [ so there])
"I've just broken the damn thing!" shouted Arthur. "I'm never going to hear the end of this!"
"You're right. You're not. This makes you the king."
"King?" Arthur thought about this for a moment. "No way, I've had this dream before. Now where's that dancing moose......"