I later found out that I had landed in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, but that was unimportant, since the people still spoke English, though I was only able to understand every other word or so. I wandered the city streets for days, hoping that someone would offer me food or drink, maybe a place to stay for the night, but whenever I asked for help, everyone would give me odd looks and directions to the nearest Renaissance Faire. For two weeks, I survived only on stolen food and my own resolve--life on the streets was still better than life on the fief.
Eventually, God smiled upon me, as He is wont to do. I was meandering around Kadish park, when I heard familiar strains of language--oddly pronounced, yes, but still recognizable as Bill Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." I was so happy to see that my friend's works were still popular after over four hundred years, and I could not help but mercilessly heckle the lout who played Bottom. But apparently, theatre-going etiquette had changed considerably since the last time I saw the play, and I was arrested and jailed for public misconduct.
After a long series of events that I will not detail here, I was adopted by a lovely couple who educated me in the ways of the contemporary and sent me off to college, and now I'm living the good life in Seattle, getting my Master's of Music at the University of Washington and watching too much television.