Thomas Jefferson sat at his desk. Having just returned from France, he was given a handful of surprises. Washington wanted him to be the Secretary of State, working on his staff. Obviously, he agreed, but he needed to write a letter stating that. Then write a speech to give at a meeting. Disgusting, he hated public speaking. Just picking up his quill, there was a crash. "God.." he thought, slowly looking up, you were there. He sounded reasonably stressed.

"What the f-"