Original subtitles

MITCHELL: I do solemnly swear

that everything I am about to tell you is true.

A spill of weirdness from another dimension

turned my hometown into the center of weirdness

for the entire universe.

Don't believe me? Just watch.

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

MITCHELL: For months now Stanley and me have been fighting

the biggest lie there is.

Namely that Eerie is the most normal town in the country.

You just have to look out your door

to see what's going on here.

But even my own family would rather believe the statistics.

The Society of certifiable UFO observers?

Ho-ho, honey, where did we go wrong?

Dad, seriously.

I need parental consent to join.

Well... Now what about the Corn Scouts or...

4-H.

Cows can be fun.

[MOOING]

All right, Mom, Dad.

If my picture wins,

Stanley and me could win a five hundred dollar prize.

See, there's a UFO. Right there.

[SIRENS WAILING]

Mitchell.

I am a scientist.

Dad, it was a real UFO. We saw it.

[CRASHING]

What's going on out there?

[DOORBELL RINGING]

Just... stay calm, Mrs. Taylor.

We're here on... official business.

[WHISTLING]

Miss Median,

is from BS.

The Bureau of Statistics.

She needs a few answers from you.

The right answers.

If I could have a few moments of your time,

the entire country would be grateful.

This, is a very special household.

According to our statistics,

Eerie is the most normal town in America.

And this house is at the exact geographical center of Eerie.

That makes you,

the country's most normal family.

Oh. [LAUGHING]

Please, come in.

If I had known you were coming, I would have... vacuumed.

On the contrary, a certain amount

of carpet land is statistically, desirable.

Who are you?

Mitchell.

The average family has 3.1 members,

this boy...

But you are nine tenths of a person

over the desirable limit.

Oh, but we wanted Mitchell.

Didn't we, Edward?

[SLAPS ON THE THIGH]

Hmm? Oh, of course we did.

Absolutely.

For now we are recording this as a standard deviation

of minor consequence.

I will have my eye on him, though.

Thank you.

MITCHELL: In typical Eerie style,

our UFO photo would soon seem downright ordinary.

Agnes Median was about to unleash a tidal wave

of normalcy.

One that might even wash away our entire family.

One thing I've always liked about my family,

there are light years away from normal.

But all that was going to change,

if that Agnes Median had her way.

You haven't got one answer right.

It doesn't make any sense.

If you are not the most normal family,

in the country, what are you doing in this house?

Living here?

That... young man, can be remedied.

What are you talking about? This is our house.

They can't make us move.

I've already labeled everything I own,

with this address.

There might be a simple painless solution

to our problem.

We'll use a form. 1363L.

We test on data...

or populations that might be tainted.

If you ask me, it's Eerie that's tainted.

It's not possible.

I know, I grew up here.

Now...

Everyone go out and do their business

as though I am not here. I'll handle the rest.

You.

Little man.

Stanley. Hmm.

Shouldn't be at your home with your mother and father?

My mom's at work.

And your father?

He is out doing the weekly groceries.

Right, Stanley?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

He left a couple of hours ago.

Then he should be back by now.

The weekly shopping in Eerie only takes 1.6 hours.

Mitchell, I think she knows I don't have a father.

What's she gonna do?

I think we rather not find out.

Cereal is normally kept in the cupboard by the fridge.

And the average family only buys one generic brand,

for every two name brands.

I'll go shopping tomorrow.

Ah.

Where do you keep your waffle iron?

Um, maybe it's, uh...

Mom, we don't have a waffle iron.

The average family has waffles 6.3 times a month.

Waffle irons make a statement, they say,

normal.

You know, it's funny, I was just looking

at a waffle iron at... the World O'Stuff.

Maybe I'll slip out this afternoon and pick that up.

MITCHELL: From serial mom to waffle mom in 3.2 minutes.

And as for dad...

That's Mitchel and Stanley's Halloween costume.

Dad, that's the costume you and mom wore

to the Eerie dress up and Ho-down.

Which end were you?

The rear.

MITCHELL: Mom and dad are caved without a fight,

But surely Carrie could never be normal.

But it's the perfect music mix.

Well, it might be perfect,

but it is not a typical, of a girl your age.

You should have 32.6% of rock.

9.3% Pop.

And 0.8% country.

That's unfortunate, but...

But I like movie music like,

like Last tango in Argentina... No!

No tango music. Never.

It's the music of broken dreams.

It shreds young girls hearts.

How many boyfriends do you have?

Two.

How often do you talk to them on the phone?

An hour a day.

And I suppose you think that's too much.

On the contrary,

you should have 3.5 boyfriends.

You should talk to them 4.7 hours a day.

MITCHELL: Carrie was okay at math.

But she was an absolute genius when it came to calculating

her maximum number of boyfriends.

CARRIE: Well, Jack's a ten,

he counts as one full boyfriend.

And Billie is a seven, so that gives me 1.7

Which leaves me with 1.8 more.

So, I can either find three guys who are sixes,

or get rid of Jack, and find two fives. [GIGGLES]

MITCHELL: Agnes Median and her statistics

had ruled over my entire family.

It didn't take rocket science to figure out

that Stanley and me would be next.

Well, well, well, what nasty little deviations

are you boys hiding away up here?

Seventy nine percent of boys with over active imagination

prefer playing in the shadows.

Heavens knows why.

But your secrecy is perfectly normal.

It's even normal the way you try to cover up...

that box.

What's in it?

Uh, nothing important.

MITCHELL: Baseball cards. STANLEY: Toy soldiers.

Monster models. Evidence.

Useless junk.

Typical of boys like you.

Yes. "Typical."

What?

Where did you...

STANLEY: [STAMMERING] We took it outside the old...

water tower.

When was this?

A month ago, Tuesday.

The full moon.

Oh, oh.

The odds against... sighting...

alien spaceships are four million to one.

We know what we saw.

No, it's gonna be dangerous, young man.

I really have to pay a visit to your father.

Boys without proper fatherly guidance

are statistically more prone to being shipped out of Eerie.

More than any other type of boy.

I am sure, your... father,

would understand that.

EDWARD: Good morning, Son.

Good morning, Dad.

Waffles will be on the table in 10.5 minutes.

I think I'm gonna have some cereal.

Waffles say who we are as a family.

[FOOTSTEPS IN THE ATTIC]

Who is in the attic?

Oh, that's just Miss Median.

You can't do this.

Son, Miss Median's got statistics on her side.

Who has the right to pluck nose from your hair.

Hair from your nose.

If she feels it's necessary.

Take everything, ma'am?

Mm-hmm.

Removing this rubbish will improve your family's

average scores.

You just want to hide the truth about Eerie.

The truth... is that the chance of finding all these

peculiar objects in one attic is infinitesimally small.

Ergo, they should not be here.

You have a nice family, Mitchell.

It'll be a shame if you skewed their numbers and made them...

deviate from the norm.

Because in Eerie deviations are... adjusted.

MITCHELL: The last time I was adjusted,

was in the sixth grade when a doctor put back

my dislocated shoulder.

I remember a loud cracking sound,

before I passed out from the pain.

Something told me, this time,

I'll enjoy myself even less.

Agnes had started using the word adjusted,

right after she saw the photo of our UFO.

Before that she thought our evidence was just

depressingly normal kids stuff.

Maybe she knows more than she is letting on.

Where you going?

To talk to the man who knows everything about everything.

Eerie-wise, at least.

Shouldn't we worry about getting me a father first?

Maybe Crawford can help us with that, too.

SHERIFF: Statistics 378.

Part B subsection two.

What's going on?

Bucko here should have used only one sugar in his coffee,

kinda makes you sick, doesn't it?

MR. CRAWFORD: I warned them.

You can't tell some people.

STANLEY: Mr. Crawford.

Will you be my father?

Yes. You will?

Well, yes, statistically,

the most popular answer to a yes, no question.

Will you take me to a ball game?

No.

Statistically, most fathers don't spend enough quality time with their sons.

So, black cows all around?

Did you know Agnes Median when she was growing up here?

Keep it down, will you?

You wanna get us adjusted?

What?

Look, fellas, believe me, you do not want to annoy

an official from the BS.

We already have.

Make her twitch?

Mm-hmm. Yep.

[WHISTLES]

[SIGHS]

Something I make you to eat?

A last meal?

How about a blindfold? [CHUCKLES]

We want to know about Agnes Median.

All right, I am putting my life in the line for you two.

Can't refuse a last request.

From my dancing days.

Recognize anybody?

Agnes?

She was a splendid woman back then.

A vision of tempestuous beauty.

What happened?

I blame it all on the mysterious Armando.

It was 20 years ago,

at a Tom and loaners convention center,

in Truck stop.

The Eerie singles mix and mingle,

were holding their annual tango contest.

A tribute, to the forbidden dance of love.

It was a full moon that night, my friends.

I did everything by the book.

The Corrida, the Kaminanda, the Gaucho.

even the Molinette...

But then Agnes took the floor.

And on her arm,

the mysterious Armando.

From the second he placed the one perfect

rose in her teeth, and rolled her onto the floor,

the crowd was hypnotized.

Armando knew secrets only the great masters know.

And Agnes was spectacular.

Wild and free, utterly without restraint.

She was always a vixen,

but the way she danced that night,

I couldn't take my eyes off her.

[SCREAMS]

All right.

So I missed one little step.

Believe me, I've paid for it.

I haven't tangoed since that night.

Well, what happened to Armando?

That, my friend, is where it gets...

pardon the expression,

weird.

See, Agnes came back the next day.

Saying he was an alien.

That he was coming back in a ship,

the next full moon, to marry her.

But she never saw Armando again.

Poor Agnes.

Yeah, "poor Agnes."

All that heart ache and humiliation,

drove her straight into the Bureau of Statistics.

But deep inside, who knows.

You don't easily forget a tangaro like...

Armando.

[TANGO SONG PLAYING]

This was the very song they were playing that night.

Mr. Crawford, can we borrow

your scrapbook and record player?

Sure. Why not.

A last dance, before they take you away.

[SMIRKS]

I don't think I am much in the mood for dancing.

Don't you get it?

Tonight's a full moon.

Statistically a night of romance.

And alien encounters.

[TANGO MUSIC PLAYING]

We know all about Armando.

And we believe you.

He really is an alien.

I've never seen an alien.

I never will.

I never want to.

Aliens do not exist.

Oh, yeah?

Then come out to the water tower and prove us wrong.

I dare you.

You dare me?

Thirty two percent of all adults are tempted by dares

forty five percent of the time.

And regret it seven times out of ten.

If aliens don't exist,

you'll have nothing to regret.

All right.

I'll go.

MITCHELL: After three hours in that field,

Stanley and I were getting pretty twitchy ourselves.

Agnes never moved.

Except once, when she wiped her hand across her eyes,

Maybe it was a teardrop.

But I wasn't seeing too straight by then.

We bet on a long shot and lost.

Thank you, boys. I needed that.

It confirms how badly you are in need,

of adjustment.

MITCHELL: We were doomed, dead, daffy ducked.

Ready to buy the farm.

But then, Eerie finally came through.

[SPACESHIP REVVING]

Armando!

Agnes.

Oh.

You stood me up.

Never.

I was a few years late, that's all.

I'd forgotten my watch was still set on Venusian time.

But I've come back here every full moon since.

I am 20 years older.

I am not the same woman you loved.

No.

You are as beautiful now,

as on the night we first met.

Am I dreaming?

Can I really dance in your arms again?

[TANGO MUSIC PLAYING]

Dance with me now.

A true tangaro is the ultimate lover,

his dance,

is the expression of his love.

[BEEPING]

Oh, no.

Time to go or we miss the next space war.

You're leaving?

We are leaving.

Are you ready?

I haven't packed.

My hair... Is perfect.

And I know a planet with an all night shopping mall and casino,

we can get married.

Tonight.

Ah!

Thank you, boys.

Oh, don't ever stop believing.

Think they will ever come back?

I'd say there's about a one in billion chance,

But this is Eerie, so keep your camera loaded.

Hey, Mitchell, I was thinking,

maybe I should keep Crawford as my father.

BOTH: Nah.

MITCHELL: It makes a sort of twisted sense,

that the only person besides me and Stanley

who knows about Eerie's true weirdness,

is doing the tango in warped space.

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]