"It was the wrong house. I walked in and slung my bookbag and coat on the loveseat. I started to feel hungry, so I looked in the sweets stash, hoping to find a Boston Cream Roll, or a Twinkie, or something of that sort. I looked in and couldn't believe my very eyes.
I saw sweet upon sweet upon sweet. It was indescribable. I took the entire sweet stash, laid on the loveseat, and started munching. And munching. And munching. Then...all of it was gone.
Just five minutes later, a plump man with a large, bushy white beard, carrying a handful of live, freshly caught catfish and a lot of fishing gear burst through the door screaming, "OUT OUT OUT NOW OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!"
I scampered out the door, thinking, "Am I in the wrong neighborhood? Am I in the wrong house?" Then I went into the house with the address of: 6723 Grintfield Lane instead of the one labled: 6723 Mayfield Lane."
"O.K. Miss Joel, you're free to go home. Next, Mr. William Billius Hanters..." said Chief Thorne.
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