An odd man stumbled down the street one evening. He lumbered in his way of walking, or looked more like a puppet walking actually. He also looked odd, skitches on his face and patches where his skin didn't seem to match. Regardless of these oddities he was a decently attractive man.

He passed a few gawking humans but kept going. He knew exactly where he was going, and didn't. He was a bit fuzzy in the brain now but let his instincts guide him. He soon ended up in front of a nice townhouse with a red sportscar in front. He hesitated, feeling like he wasn't supposed to be here, but also couldn't leave. He hesitated, but knocked.

(You are Miles)