No, despite the stranger’s insistence that “I own this bed. I pay taxes for this bed,” our homeowner, in his Canadian (or possibly upper-midwestern) way, gently convinced Goldilocks and the Three Beers here to stand up, then offered him a place to crash.
And then we discover how the bewildered visitor came to be in the house in the first place, and how he became convinced he was the owner of a bed that was very much not his: He says he used to live there, and it appears he got so drunk that he forgot he’d ever moved.
It’s a mistake anyone could make, really. And the best you can hope for if you do is gently chuckling beardo filming you and putting it on YouTube.