A man named Campren has been been spending the better portion of his morning screaming at a fat little bird. After a particularly violent outburst, he realizes to his horror that life on the street has driven him insane. He reflects on his shattered life, and tries to think of possible ways to fix it. He gives up after several dismal moments. As he is contemplating "playing in traffic," a man in overalls taps him on the shoulder.
"Are you Gardevier, hero of Vendersia, champion of champions?" he asks.
"Ehh . . . no. I'm Camp -- um -- bell. Campbell," Campren replied, remembering that his real name was probably on the police's wanted list. "Charley Campbell. Taxpayer of South Carolina. Scum of the earth."
The mysterious man frowns, looks over his notes, and, with a shrug, states "you'll do."
"I'm sending you on a little vacation. Well, a save-the-world vacation. Well, actually, you're gonna have to save the very fabric of reality. But no pressure; just do your best.
With that, the man pokes Campren's coat as he murmurs the word "protection."
"You'll need it," the man states.
The man gives Campren an encouraging smile, and Campren quickly decides that the stranger is even crazier than he is. As Campren tries to run away, the stranger grabs him by the collar.
"In case you have any questions, I'm giving you a little how-to manual I wrote up this morning. Now hold still."
With that, the man shoves a piece of paper in Campren's pocket and slaps Campren's shoes. Campren is then freed, and he runs away as fast as his legs will carry him. Except, to his horror, he finds that his feet are not taking him where he wants to go, and he can't stop himself from running. His shoes have grown a mind of their own. To make matters worse, the fat little bird has latched onto Campren's hair with its stubby little talons. The possessed shoes carry the two into a strange black hole, and they disappear.