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

I shouldn ’ t have smoked so much last night, and I know that ’ s a tired excuse, but look here. 
 
 Seriously, look here: a bucolic renaissance village with bales of hay and laboring grunts in vegetable colors: brown and white and the occasional touch of lavender and green. The only path we can walk on leads into town, where others labor: looms and smithys and the other like. *A whole veritable feast of God ’ s glory! The fortuitous passing of Advent in the last calendrical year, O… * 
 
 Hey, where did that come from? I am not religious, although I went through 5 or so years of sunday schooling before I called it quits. I guess it must be all the THC. I read somewhere the actual effects can last up to three weeks in your system, and the strain I got was a Sativa from the 80s, so maybe there ’ s even more to it. 
 
 ANYWAY, this is the best renaissance reenactment I have ever seen. The actors are so good they all speak in a version of Spenserian English. The two ladies ahead of me have basically a pre-Elizabethan revenge opera happening in front of me. Another customer, apparently, involved in a dispute. 
 
 I am myself of easy disposition and am often want of that inner fire which Augustine names God ’ s ire. So imagine my incomprehension when that dispute, involving a Squalid young master dressed in the poorest of trousers and the good neighbor Frederick looked in mine visage. 
 
 Hey! I don ’ t know what ’ s gotten into me. That fight isn ’ t looking good though. The actor has grabbed the customer by the hand, and he ’ s coming towards me. 
 
 “ This sir ‘ ere tells me you ” he points directly into my face “ think my beard ain ’ t real ” 
 
 “ Your beard sir ” I reply “ I never said anything about your beard ” 
 
 “ Hey look, you speak english right? ” The other guy whispers to me. 
 
 “ Yeah, of course. We ’ re not all reenactors here. ” I say. 
 
 // and so on
