[ WP ] You are dropped penniless into a village in the middle of England in the year 1500 . You maintain all your current knowledge .

At least I still had my shoes, I thought to myself, before I realised that my band T-shirt and related merch looked way out of place. I do n't know how I got here, either, but I ca n't leave now, that's for certain. I do n't have my phone, wallet, or any sort of identification, or any idea of how to speak old English. Well, technically Early Modern English, but who's- 
 
 `` Good sir!'' a villager said. `` What art thou doing?'' 
 
 I froze. The villager had balanced in his hands two buckets of what I could only guess were excrement and liquid feces. The smell was awful, too - I know it's the old days, but did n't any of these people ever take a shower? 
 
 Finally I settled on a simple, `` Wh-what are *you* doing?'' 
 
 The peasant looked very miffed. `` Thou art most polite. But thine purpose here - what is it? And what clothes are in thine possession?'' 
 
 `` Hey!'' I shouted involuntarily, before I jumped back a little. I did n't realise quite how loud I could be. The Wonder Years would be so proud of me sticking up for them. `` They're my favourite band. I want to know - which way is it to town?'' 
 
 The villager looked rather bemused, almost as if he was taking pity on me. The buckets of shit were still in his hand, but he seemed to not feel the weight at all. Tipping his head, he tried to point out the direction to me, and I saw a road - really just a gravel pathway - leading up to a few houses and a lot of farm land. `` The town is over there, about - err... a few hundred paces yonder. If thou maintain thine pace thou shall find an unfinished church.'' 
 
 I looked, and indeed there was the beginnings of a church. `` Thank you,'' I said. 
 
 He bowed deeply, still staring at my shirt and at my pink socks. And still I stayed put, trying to make sense of it all, and still he stayed put, trying to make sense of me. 
 
 `` My name's Todd,'' I said. `` What's your name?'' 
 
 `` I am Jonah,'' he said. `` I worketh at the church. Aye, years have I toiled at the building of the church, and I long for the day at when I can see it complete.'' And here he stole a glance towards the church. I saw it pass across his face, and his eyes turn skywards, almost as if he was looking beyond the church. But the divine faded quickly, and he squared his shoulders again. `` Now I must be going, lest the master get angry.'' 
 
 I looked at his hands, scarred and beaten and in one place burnt, and could not but help feeling for him. 
 
 `` Can I take the buckets?'' I said. 
 
 The peasant looked at me suspiciously, but then he smiled. `` Within this wall of flesh there is a soul that counts thee its creditor.'' He handed me the bucket, and as he did so, the pee and excrement slopped over the side and splashed on my pink socks. I flinched - the liquid was cold - but slowly regained my composure. I could've sworn that he laughed at me out the corner of my eye. 
 
 `` Cold?'' he asked with a small grin. 
 
 `` You wish,'' I said. `` Where are we disposing of this?'' 
 
 `` In the river, yonder,'' he said, pointing to where I had come from. `` If thou shalt be so kind as to follow me I shall be thine humble guide.'' 
 
 I looked at him, and at his face that could do me no malice, and sighed. If I was going to be trapped, penniless, in sixteenth-century England, I might as well do it with a friend, even if he'd never heard of The Wonder Years. `` Let's go.''
