The Camelot Daily

He had thought himself a Merlin, the media-owning fucker.

Bought access to the government DNA database and a few private ones. Found a "descendant of Arthur," whatever the hell that meant, with good scores on social media predictive algorithms. A quick negotiation with the handler of a fourth-in-line Royal princess. Staging the romance and wedding, and leveraging the collective nationalist fervor into a proxy Prime Minister - routine by now, practically a tradition.

He believed  he had locked-in Brexit England for a generation. Billionaires seldom read Arthurian lore, nor even, it seemed, watched the bad movies.

He was honestly surprised when we burned Buckingham Palace.

It never occurred to him to wonder if this was what Merlin dimly remembered so many years ago.