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My name is Marshall Teller. Not too long ago, I was living in New Jersey, just across the river from New York City. It was crowded, polluted, and full of crime. I loved it. But my parents wanted a better life for my sister and me. So we moved to a place so wholesome, so squeaky clean, so ordinary that you could only find it on TV: Eerie, Indiana.
It's the American Dream come true, right? Wrong. Sure, my new hometown looks normal enough. But look again. Underneath, it's crawling with strange stuff. Item: Elvis lives on my paper route. Item: Bigfoot eats out of my trash. Item: I see unexplained flashing lights in the sky at least once a week. No one believes me, but Eerie is the center of weirdness for the entire planet.
Since I moved here, I've started to think in a whole new way. Things that used to surprise me don't anymore. And if anything normal happens, I practically jump out of my skin. Like for example, if the neighbor's cat were to suddenly start barking, I wouldn't give it a second thought. But if I walked past their house and the cat me owed and rubbed up against my leg, rd definitely wonder what was going on. When I reach into my coat pockets I expect to find someone else's gloves now. If I were to find both of my own, rd be seriously freaked out. And nobody but me seems to have noticed how turned around everything in Eerie is.
At least, nobody except my friend Simon Holmes. Simon's my next-door neighbor. He's lived in Eerie his whole life, and he's the only other person who knows just how freaky this place is. Together, we've been keeping a record of all the stuff that happens around here. We've faced some of Eerie's most bizarre inhabitantsand lived to tell about it, from the talking dogs that tried to take over the city to the crazy gray haired kid who lives in the old abandoned mill and can't remember who he is. I told you this place was weird.
Still don't believe me? You will.
Copyright ) 1997 by Hearst Entertainment, INC.