Kenneth (Ah-ahhhh!) Saviour of the Multiverse!

Kenneth awoke with a headache, blurry vision, and the taste of Lemon in his mouth. Out of the three, he found the taste immensely unsettling. Not the taste itself, mind – travel between universes does that to you. Probably the battery acid or something. No, not the taste itself, but its presence at this particular time, as he couldn’t for the life of him remember Dimension-Jumping. He thought back through the last few days to get his bearings. He’d saved the Mouse Republic from the Rabbit Reich, yes… and then there’d been that party. Ah. That’d be it. Oh Smeg. Mental note logged: D-Jumping whist drunk not recommended.
So where was he now? His vision cleared slightly, and he got up from the ground.

After five minutes, he’d gathered he was in a city. The kind of city which leaves a bad taste (Definitely NOT lemon) in your mouth and a significant lack of money in your wallet. The kind of city that said, to Kenneth’s subconscious “Nothing to see here… just move on. Trust me. Otherwise you’ll regret it.”
So he tried. He really did. But for whatever reason, he couldn’t do it. His D-Drive had failed. He was stuck here.
“Oh Smeg.”

He took a moment to survey his surroundings. He’d stumbled into some kind of alleyway. There was a figure at the end – a man around thirty. Kenneth walked up to him.
“Hey – name’s Kenneth. What city is this? Come to think of it, what planet? Ooh, and what year?”
The man fixed him with a withering look.
“Another one! Look, you’re in Vegas, you’re on Earth, it’s 2013.”
“Ah. Ok. That’s new. What do you mean Another One?”
“Someone other weirdo just asked me all the same questions. Is this some kind of practical joke? Or one of those hidden camera shows?”
“I can’t say anything for the other one, but it’s not a joke for me – sorry. Ooh, which way did they go?”
The man replied with a “Sent him to Rick’s Bar – that way” and a pleas-go-away-now look. So Kenneth went away in the direction he’d pointed. The effects of D-Jump had worn off slightly, so he actually began running, asking for directions from random strangers along the side of a road. Responses varied, but inevitably a few seconds after he’d left the stranger would remark, to the universe at large:
“What a git.”

He arrived at Rick’s Bar, your standard hive of scum and villainy, and did a scan for out-of-period technology. Strangely enough he picked up something from the late eighteenth century coming from a figure by the window.
He walked over to said figure and introduced himself thusly:

“Hey. Name’s Kenneth. I travel through the multiverse fighting oppression, saving the underdog and searching for an edible pot noodle. I have no idea why I’m where I am, and I can’t leave. I’m hoping you have answers to my questions – if not, can I borrow some of the local currency, presuming you have some? That bar’s looking at me funny…”