[ WP ] In the second coming of King Arthur , the sword in the stone has returned and thousands line up to take a turn . You step up to the stone , give a tug ... and the blade breaks .

I pulled over my hoodie and headed out, there was this strange rumor going around. A sword encased in stone that no-one had managed to break out. Machine, man, nothing could get the sword out. It wasn ’ t like I had any hope to get it out or anything; it was just for the fun of it. I guess I liked a challenge, I always had. The streets were packed, and I mean really packed. People were watching in anticipation to each contester, pulling and tugging their hardest, their heads turning red. 
 
 As he walked past the watchers, he heard whispers; `` what is that thing? ``, `` what happens when someone gets it out?'' 
 
 The next man who walked towards the sword was enormous, I'm talking 7 feet of pure muscle, veins flushing around the muscles. The guy literally scared the life-shit out of me, who has that much muscles, what do they even use it for. He positioned himself, a tight and strong grip around the swords handle. He tugged and tugged, you could see the muscles nearly exploding. After minutes, he let go, and screamed. I laughed, I guess I laughed a bit too loud. The giant man stopped screaming and looked me dead in the eyes. 
 
 He pointed at me `` HEY! Do you think this is funny?'' 
 
 My face turned red from embarrassment, thousands of people suddenly staring straight at me. Camera-teams focusing straight at my face. 
 
 `` Uhm, I.. i.. don ’ t, what?'' 
 
 `` Come up here, let's see what you can do?! He shouted at me, veins popping out on his bald head. 
 
 I started walking towards the stone, the crowd split so majestically for me, as if Moses was splitting the crows himself. The sword was bigger than I had imagined. 
 
 I looked up at the giant, his eyes blood-shot, veins popping vigorously out on his shiny bald head. All the eyes, all the cameras were at me. I could feel their energy, their eyes inspecting me. My hands were freezing, I rubbed them together and looked at the handle. A black handle with a golden finish. Truly a beautiful sword. My hands grip it tightly, I sense a strange energy erupting from the sword. I pull it, expecting a hard resistance, but rather, the blade splits in half. I stand there, half the sword in my hand, feeling a rush of energy. Eyes staring, their mouths open in amazement and astonishment, and yet disappointed. 

