In the days of Yore, long gone by, at the time of Camelot, there were many brave Knights, but the bravest of them all was Sir Lancelot. Sir Lancelot was the bravest of the brave, goodest of the good and purest of the pure.
One day Sir Lancelot set out from Camelot on his trusty charger, his quest as ever to slay dragons, rescue maidens, and hopefully turn up the Holy Grail on the way. Resplendent in his shiny armor he set forth, brave, good and pure.
However on this day, events took a decidedly strange twist, as out of nowhere a strange twist of time and space appeared, and before Sir Lancelot could reign in his horse, they plummeted thru the vortex and were hurled many years thru time and many miles thru space, until finally...
... they landed in present day San Francisco.
Slightly disorientated and completely naked (the anomaly did not transport non-living tissue or in-organic substances), Sir Lancelot surveyed the new world that he had been thrust upon.
His nakedness did not trouble him, for in his mind he was clad in the raiment of Goodness and Purity.
Just then he spied what he thought must be an Inn of some form named "The Fudge Packer".
He entered this strange hostelry and noticed men clad in all manner of weird apparel. He believe that he saw women also, but on closer inspection, they turned out to be men as well, dressed in female clothing.
Alas, Sir Lancelot did not watch where he was treading and his foot slid thru a large strawberry daiquiri slick.
He somersaulted into the air before landing on his head, knocking himself unconscious, draped face down over a chair and...
... a Good Knight was had by everyone!