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Mar. 29th, 2020
dannyw1986 on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 09:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
froodleWhat's the weirdest TV show you've ever seen?
— Lindsie (@Lindsie_Rose) March 29, 2020
I think "Twin Peaks" takes the cake. Is there honestly anything weirder?
Eerie Indiana
— HumanSpeedBump (@dannyw1986) March 29, 2020
abriggswriter on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 09:05 amfroodleWhat the what? Tell me that's not a Young #Trump on the cover... Eerie Indiana ep 2, 1991... #eerieindiana pic.twitter.com/kp5yxCe69q
— Andy Briggs (@abriggswriter) March 29, 2020
PhilipArdagh on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 09:09 amfroodleTime to binge watch Eerie Indiana. It must be done.
— Andy Briggs (@abriggswriter) March 28, 2020
I'd forgotten that. Do you remember the giant Tupperware episode? Inspired!
— Philip Ardagh (@PhilipArdagh) March 28, 2020
Just watched that very one, the pilot episode. Terrific fun!
— Andy Briggs (@abriggswriter) March 28, 2020
Eerie Indiana Quadruple Drabble: Sea Bell
Mar. 29th, 2020 09:59 amfroodleThe sea bell was old, pitted from years of exposure to salt spray and ocean gales, and blue-green with oxidisation. It felt both incredibly heavy and as though she was holding nothing at all, and Janet had to focus on the reality of it to keep it from slipping through her fingers.
The swan-shaped pedalo bobbed in the swell of the waves that broke around the ghost reef, anchored there by a single strand of spider silk and Janet's own fierce belief that this would work. She slid back the white canopy of her little craft, took a deep breath, and put one rubber-soled foot on the semi-translucent rock.
It held, and she stepped from the boat onto the slimy stone, the huge, half-visible bell clanking softly in her hands. Here and there, ghost shrimp swam in puddles of ghost ocean, their white shrouds drifting dramatically around them. The rising ghost-tide would carry them home, if the seagulls didn't get to them first, and they seemed happy enough where they were.
The protruding spire of rock that she'd picked as her makeshift bell tower was jagged, twisted, and black as those tiny sea serpents Simon erroneously thought he was keeping secret in the tank behind his parent's house. It radiated malice, and streaks of waterproof paint along it's sharp edges told of all the vessels it had gleefully dragged beneath the waves.
Janet wrapped the coarse, heavy rope around one jutting angle, looped it seven times while humming the sea shanty that the Jenny Haniver had taught her. The stone vibrated with outrage beneath her cold-numbed fingers, and she ignored it as it deserved. Murder-rocks with shitty attitudes forfeited her consideration.
The sea bell's clapper was suspended in a protective sheath of blessed lambswool, and it glistened new-penny bright when she slipped it free. Resting one hand on the bell's curved lip, she pushed gently, relishing the rich, deep sound that echoed over the water as it swung on it's makeshift headstock.
"That's what you get," she told the reef that snarled faintly beneath her feet. "Maybe if you'd behaved yourself, I wouldn't have had to bell you."
She returned to her swan boat, ready both for dry land and an end to the sad waterlogged ghosts who kept showing up at the restaurant, soaking the floor. A hungry mermaid grabbed for her and she kicked it in the face.
Ongoing Verse: Janet
( Read more... )
The swan-shaped pedalo bobbed in the swell of the waves that broke around the ghost reef, anchored there by a single strand of spider silk and Janet's own fierce belief that this would work. She slid back the white canopy of her little craft, took a deep breath, and put one rubber-soled foot on the semi-translucent rock.
It held, and she stepped from the boat onto the slimy stone, the huge, half-visible bell clanking softly in her hands. Here and there, ghost shrimp swam in puddles of ghost ocean, their white shrouds drifting dramatically around them. The rising ghost-tide would carry them home, if the seagulls didn't get to them first, and they seemed happy enough where they were.
The protruding spire of rock that she'd picked as her makeshift bell tower was jagged, twisted, and black as those tiny sea serpents Simon erroneously thought he was keeping secret in the tank behind his parent's house. It radiated malice, and streaks of waterproof paint along it's sharp edges told of all the vessels it had gleefully dragged beneath the waves.
Janet wrapped the coarse, heavy rope around one jutting angle, looped it seven times while humming the sea shanty that the Jenny Haniver had taught her. The stone vibrated with outrage beneath her cold-numbed fingers, and she ignored it as it deserved. Murder-rocks with shitty attitudes forfeited her consideration.
The sea bell's clapper was suspended in a protective sheath of blessed lambswool, and it glistened new-penny bright when she slipped it free. Resting one hand on the bell's curved lip, she pushed gently, relishing the rich, deep sound that echoed over the water as it swung on it's makeshift headstock.
"That's what you get," she told the reef that snarled faintly beneath her feet. "Maybe if you'd behaved yourself, I wouldn't have had to bell you."
She returned to her swan boat, ready both for dry land and an end to the sad waterlogged ghosts who kept showing up at the restaurant, soaking the floor. A hungry mermaid grabbed for her and she kicked it in the face.
Ongoing Verse: Janet
( Read more... )
froodleThe air from the Pit was hot and fetid, and the light was a blood-tinged orange as Marshall opened one reluctant eye. Beneath the hiss and crackle of the flames, he could hear the far-off screaming of souls in torment, and above all, the steady, insistent panting of the dog nuzzling his face.
"Sparky, down," he mumbled, reaching up both hands and gently pushing the gaping maw closed. The sights, sounds and smells of Hell cut off abruptly, and he sat up in bed, staring into twelve worried red eyes.
He checked the clock, groaned when he saw it was a little past four in the morning. The empty space beside him on the mattress was cold and light oozed beneath the bedroom door. He closed his eyes, buried his face in black fur that smelled of woodsmoke and the screaming void that waits at the limits of eternity.
His eyes snapped open again.
"Sparky," he said. "What are you doing in here?"
The Hellhound looked to the door, then back again. He whimpered, six ears flat against three skulls.
"Okay," said Marshall, reaching for a discarded pair of pyjama pants and slipping them on. He steadied himself against Sparky's broad back as he did so, wondering if it was worth looking for his slippers, or even a pair of socks. Based on the dog's reaction, it didn't seem like he had the time.
He unlatched the bedroom door - apparently Sparky had solved the mystery of the doorknob, which was something else to worry about, should he survive the current crisis - and stepped back as three hundred pounds of coal-black Devil Dog slipped past him into the hall.
He followed the anxious pup down the narrow corridor towards the living room, where flickering lights pulsed against the dirty walls and excited voices conversed in hushed whispers. The television was on, displaying the familiar green-on-green background of the Eerie-tron. On the worn sofa, faces washed pale in the inconstant illumination coming from Corn Critters: The Movie: The Game, were Dash and Simon.
They looked up as he entered, eyes hollow, expressions guilty.
"It's four am," said Marshall. "On a Tuesday. And that games console should be in the Evidence Foot Locker, not plugged in and spewing cursed pixels all over the lounge."
(Sadly, their small rented apartment was not big enough to fit in a dedicated Secret Spot, or even the free-standing cabinet that had once held their evidence. The foot locker was cheap, locked easily, and doubled as a coffee-table)
They looked at him. They looked at Sparky.
"I can't believe your dog ratted us out," said Dash.
"Bad Sparky," said Simon. "Very bad."
"Very good Sparky," said Marshall, crossing the room and unplugging the power cord as the Corn Mother on their television whispered promises of arcane delights in his ear. "Excellent Sparky, who came and got me before you two idiots had your life-force sucked out through your eyes."
Sparky nodded with all three of his heads.
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
"Sparky, down," he mumbled, reaching up both hands and gently pushing the gaping maw closed. The sights, sounds and smells of Hell cut off abruptly, and he sat up in bed, staring into twelve worried red eyes.
He checked the clock, groaned when he saw it was a little past four in the morning. The empty space beside him on the mattress was cold and light oozed beneath the bedroom door. He closed his eyes, buried his face in black fur that smelled of woodsmoke and the screaming void that waits at the limits of eternity.
His eyes snapped open again.
"Sparky," he said. "What are you doing in here?"
The Hellhound looked to the door, then back again. He whimpered, six ears flat against three skulls.
"Okay," said Marshall, reaching for a discarded pair of pyjama pants and slipping them on. He steadied himself against Sparky's broad back as he did so, wondering if it was worth looking for his slippers, or even a pair of socks. Based on the dog's reaction, it didn't seem like he had the time.
He unlatched the bedroom door - apparently Sparky had solved the mystery of the doorknob, which was something else to worry about, should he survive the current crisis - and stepped back as three hundred pounds of coal-black Devil Dog slipped past him into the hall.
He followed the anxious pup down the narrow corridor towards the living room, where flickering lights pulsed against the dirty walls and excited voices conversed in hushed whispers. The television was on, displaying the familiar green-on-green background of the Eerie-tron. On the worn sofa, faces washed pale in the inconstant illumination coming from Corn Critters: The Movie: The Game, were Dash and Simon.
They looked up as he entered, eyes hollow, expressions guilty.
"It's four am," said Marshall. "On a Tuesday. And that games console should be in the Evidence Foot Locker, not plugged in and spewing cursed pixels all over the lounge."
(Sadly, their small rented apartment was not big enough to fit in a dedicated Secret Spot, or even the free-standing cabinet that had once held their evidence. The foot locker was cheap, locked easily, and doubled as a coffee-table)
They looked at him. They looked at Sparky.
"I can't believe your dog ratted us out," said Dash.
"Bad Sparky," said Simon. "Very bad."
"Very good Sparky," said Marshall, crossing the room and unplugging the power cord as the Corn Mother on their television whispered promises of arcane delights in his ear. "Excellent Sparky, who came and got me before you two idiots had your life-force sucked out through your eyes."
Sparky nodded with all three of his heads.
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
Eerie Indiana Double Drabble: Fry-Up
Mar. 29th, 2020 10:52 amfroodleThe face stared up at Marshall, eyes huge and misshapen, mouth twisted in a thin, lopsided smile.
"Hey Syndi?" he asked. "Can I ask you something about this breakfast?"
His sister turned away from the stove, one eyebrow raised.
"Something wrong with it?" she asked, her tone sweet apples concealing razor blades and the threat of rather more than a hundred years' slumber.
Marshall spun his plate around so that the face was looking at her. The yolk of one fried egg eye had burst, tear-tracks of gooey orange cascading down the rubbery white cheek and losing itself in the upwards curl of a bacon rasher.
"It's crying," he said.
Syndi looked at it, then back at him.
"It was smiling when it came out of the pan," she said. "Seeing how ugly you are probably made it's eyeballs explode."
She picked up a fork, crossed the small kitchen in three steps and plunged the gleaming tines into the other sunset-golden pupil.
"There," she said, flipping the bacon smile into a downturned scowl. "Now he's blind. He never has to look at you again."
Marshall looked down at his breakfast. His breakfast did not look back.
He shrugged, and ate.
Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History
( Read more... )
"Hey Syndi?" he asked. "Can I ask you something about this breakfast?"
His sister turned away from the stove, one eyebrow raised.
"Something wrong with it?" she asked, her tone sweet apples concealing razor blades and the threat of rather more than a hundred years' slumber.
Marshall spun his plate around so that the face was looking at her. The yolk of one fried egg eye had burst, tear-tracks of gooey orange cascading down the rubbery white cheek and losing itself in the upwards curl of a bacon rasher.
"It's crying," he said.
Syndi looked at it, then back at him.
"It was smiling when it came out of the pan," she said. "Seeing how ugly you are probably made it's eyeballs explode."
She picked up a fork, crossed the small kitchen in three steps and plunged the gleaming tines into the other sunset-golden pupil.
"There," she said, flipping the bacon smile into a downturned scowl. "Now he's blind. He never has to look at you again."
Marshall looked down at his breakfast. His breakfast did not look back.
He shrugged, and ate.
Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History
( Read more... )
froodleThe fox pressed it's face against the thin sliver of the open window, which slid open just enough to let the animal through. Dash, sat behind the bar of the Loyal Order of Corn's Day-Drinking But In A Fun, Indulgent Sort Of Way Rather Than a Sad One room, watched as it slipped easily down the wall and vanished amongst the forest of chair legs.
He went back to examining the laminated cheat sheet he'd found taped to the inside of the mini fridge. The fox climbed from table to table, examining ashtrays and half-finished pints with an unimpressed expression, before making the leap to a barstool and then, onto the polished bar itself.
"Hey, kid," it said, and it's voice was exactly what you'd expect from a talking fox. "Can I get a Joan Collins?"
Dash ran one finger down the list in front of him.
"Yeah," he said. "Probably."
"New on the job, huh?" asked the fox.
Dash nodded, one eye on the paper as he fetched vodka and honey-hibiscus syrup down from the shelf behind him.
The fox pulled a small dish of chicken heads towards itself and began crunching one enthusiastically.
"Did you meet the Taxidermied Deer yet?" the fox wanted to know.
Dash nodded again.
"Good tipper," he volunteered.
The fox scoffed.
"Money," it said. "Any dead animal can get money, kid. How about I give you something better?"
Dash cut a wedge of lime, his expression neutral.
"Such as?"
"All the knowledge of the bartending world," said the fox, voice hushed with wonderment. "Cocktails. Bar snacks. Every secret thing whispered in bathrooms, every idea scribbled on a napkin."
Ice rattled loudly in the stainless steel cocktail maker as Dash shook it.
"Money's better," he said.
"Whatever," said the fox. "It was a lie anyway."
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be
( Read more... )
He went back to examining the laminated cheat sheet he'd found taped to the inside of the mini fridge. The fox climbed from table to table, examining ashtrays and half-finished pints with an unimpressed expression, before making the leap to a barstool and then, onto the polished bar itself.
"Hey, kid," it said, and it's voice was exactly what you'd expect from a talking fox. "Can I get a Joan Collins?"
Dash ran one finger down the list in front of him.
"Yeah," he said. "Probably."
"New on the job, huh?" asked the fox.
Dash nodded, one eye on the paper as he fetched vodka and honey-hibiscus syrup down from the shelf behind him.
The fox pulled a small dish of chicken heads towards itself and began crunching one enthusiastically.
"Did you meet the Taxidermied Deer yet?" the fox wanted to know.
Dash nodded again.
"Good tipper," he volunteered.
The fox scoffed.
"Money," it said. "Any dead animal can get money, kid. How about I give you something better?"
Dash cut a wedge of lime, his expression neutral.
"Such as?"
"All the knowledge of the bartending world," said the fox, voice hushed with wonderment. "Cocktails. Bar snacks. Every secret thing whispered in bathrooms, every idea scribbled on a napkin."
Ice rattled loudly in the stainless steel cocktail maker as Dash shook it.
"Money's better," he said.
"Whatever," said the fox. "It was a lie anyway."
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be
( Read more... )
froodleOne of the watches on Marshall's left wrist beeped loudly, and he reached for the mouse curled sulkily on the dining room table.
"Oops," he said, slipping a loosely-looped tie on over the t-shirt he'd slept in. "Work time."
The screen of the Things Incorporated Home Working and Employee Monitoring Device slowly resolved itself into the desktop of the computer currently sat in Marshall's empty cubicle.
"What are you going to do if your boss wants a video conference?" asked Dash, stepping carefully out of the glowing red camera's line of sight.
Marshall clicked the mouse a couple of times, eliciting an outraged squeak, and then the screen filled with something terrifying.
It was Marshall in the same way that the face of a sentient cash machine had been Edgar. Not so much a resemblance as the intention to create one. Curtains of brown hair sat rigid and awkward atop a face that was one homogenous shade of fleshy pink. Unlike Mister Wilson, it didn't smile, though it did show teeth.
"That's horrible," said Dash, deeply impressed.
Marshall nodded.
"Once I put this on screen, everyone will get so uncomfortable, they'll go back to using chat," he said, grinning widely.
Ongoing Verse: First Kiss
( Read more... )
Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History
( Read more... )
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
"Oops," he said, slipping a loosely-looped tie on over the t-shirt he'd slept in. "Work time."
The screen of the Things Incorporated Home Working and Employee Monitoring Device slowly resolved itself into the desktop of the computer currently sat in Marshall's empty cubicle.
"What are you going to do if your boss wants a video conference?" asked Dash, stepping carefully out of the glowing red camera's line of sight.
Marshall clicked the mouse a couple of times, eliciting an outraged squeak, and then the screen filled with something terrifying.
It was Marshall in the same way that the face of a sentient cash machine had been Edgar. Not so much a resemblance as the intention to create one. Curtains of brown hair sat rigid and awkward atop a face that was one homogenous shade of fleshy pink. Unlike Mister Wilson, it didn't smile, though it did show teeth.
"That's horrible," said Dash, deeply impressed.
Marshall nodded.
"Once I put this on screen, everyone will get so uncomfortable, they'll go back to using chat," he said, grinning widely.
Ongoing Verse: First Kiss
( Read more... )
Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History
( Read more... )
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
deifireThe Roller Rink on the Edge of Forever, Chapter 19: The Edge of Ruin
"What, so this is my fault, too?" Dash asked.
What happens to some more of our heroes after Janet's disastrous attempt to travel three minutes into the future.
( Full summary and a link to read from the beginning )
Please note tag change. Also, this fic is rated E for reasons.
"What, so this is my fault, too?" Dash asked.
What happens to some more of our heroes after Janet's disastrous attempt to travel three minutes into the future.
( Full summary and a link to read from the beginning )
Please note tag change. Also, this fic is rated E for reasons.
hoangiuk on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 11:38 amfroodleWho was your first childhood celebrity crush? 😍
— I❤️80s (@IL0VEthe80s) March 28, 2020
Omri Katz (is that even how you spell his name?!) from Eerie Indiana. I think I even tried to send him fan mail. pic.twitter.com/p7I99PQM8Y
— C. (@hoangiuk) March 29, 2020
froodleCreamy white mozzarella oozed from cracks in the layer of golden breadcrumbs. Green flecks of finely-diced jalapeno lay within it, filling the air with their sweet-spicy scent.
"Why is it you only ever cook confectionary and bar food?" asked Marshall.
Dash slid a spatula beneath the gooey snacks and tipped them onto a waiting side plate.
"The pastries are because that's what Bert and Ernie teach," he said. "The bar food is because a magical fox traded me bartending knowledge for a second Joan Collins."
Mars blinked.
"What?"
Dash nodded.
"Turned out to be one of those pocket guides to cocktail making and appetisers," he said. "Nothing magic about it, and it was beat up enough that I think he might have stolen it out of a trashcan."
He shrugged and fetched the home-made salsa from the refrigerator.
"Still a lot easier to follow than Old Ned's cheat sheets, though."
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
"Why is it you only ever cook confectionary and bar food?" asked Marshall.
Dash slid a spatula beneath the gooey snacks and tipped them onto a waiting side plate.
"The pastries are because that's what Bert and Ernie teach," he said. "The bar food is because a magical fox traded me bartending knowledge for a second Joan Collins."
Mars blinked.
"What?"
Dash nodded.
"Turned out to be one of those pocket guides to cocktail making and appetisers," he said. "Nothing magic about it, and it was beat up enough that I think he might have stolen it out of a trashcan."
He shrugged and fetched the home-made salsa from the refrigerator.
"Still a lot easier to follow than Old Ned's cheat sheets, though."
Ongoing Verse: Microwave
( Read more... )
Eerie Indiana Drabble: Shop Local
Mar. 29th, 2020 01:36 pmfroodleTod set the ramekin of freshly-mixed blue cheese dressing to one side, wiped down an already immaculate and terrifyingly large cleaver with a spotlessly white dishcloth, and picked up a head of cos lettuce.
"Uh, Tod," said Marshall. "Before you cut into that, there's something you should know about lettuce in Eerie..."
"That it used to be a person?" asked Tod, turning the salad vegetable this way and that. "Mars, my folks were farmers. I know about were-lettuce."
"And you're okay with it?" Marshall asked, horrified.
Tod shrugged.
"It's locally sourced, you know?" he said, and brought the blade down.
Ongoing Verse: Janet
( Read more... )
"Uh, Tod," said Marshall. "Before you cut into that, there's something you should know about lettuce in Eerie..."
"That it used to be a person?" asked Tod, turning the salad vegetable this way and that. "Mars, my folks were farmers. I know about were-lettuce."
"And you're okay with it?" Marshall asked, horrified.
Tod shrugged.
"It's locally sourced, you know?" he said, and brought the blade down.
Ongoing Verse: Janet
( Read more... )
Return to Eerie Indiana on Max Headroom
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:18 pmfroodleDo you remember Max Headroom? He has a few things in common with Mr Wilson, the ATM With A Heart Of Gold from #EerieIndiana! 💸🧡 There’s a good ‘101’ on Max at @SYFYWIRE https://t.co/1JtzlBPtQ2 pic.twitter.com/ay33kgSGCj
— Return to Eerie, Indiana (@eerieindianapod) March 29, 2020
MrBob on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:19 pmfroodleSix series. Six friends.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
1. Twin peaks.
2. Eerie Indiana.
3. Kath & Kim.
4. The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance
5. The Mentalist.
6. Chewin' the Fat.@steveetienne3 @WilliamHaveron @CrewChiefChaos @tryianleer @ShauniusMaximus @thearbiter12
steveetienne3 on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:21 pmfroodleSix series. Six friends.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
1. Twin peaks.
2. Eerie Indiana.
3. Kath & Kim.
4. The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance
5. The Mentalist.
6. Chewin' the Fat.@steveetienne3 @WilliamHaveron @CrewChiefChaos @tryianleer @ShauniusMaximus @thearbiter12
Eerie Indiana was a superb show.
— steveetienne (@steveetienne3) March 29, 2020
steveetienne3 and Mr Bob on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:23 pmfroodleSix series. Six friends.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
1. Twin peaks.
2. Eerie Indiana.
3. Kath & Kim.
4. The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance
5. The Mentalist.
6. Chewin' the Fat.@steveetienne3 @WilliamHaveron @CrewChiefChaos @tryianleer @ShauniusMaximus @thearbiter12
Eerie Indiana was a superb show.
— steveetienne (@steveetienne3) March 29, 2020
It was the first ever thing I bought when I got a bank account with debit card.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
Some of the episodes are incredible -- it's what sparked my curiosity in Twin Peaks.
It was the first ever thing I bought when I got a bank account with debit card.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
Some of the episodes are incredible -- it's what sparked my curiosity in Twin Peaks.
Some episodes were far more surreal than Twin Peaks. Remember when the kid with braces could tune into what the dogs were saying!?
— steveetienne (@steveetienne3) March 29, 2020
froodleEerie Indiana was a superb show.
— steveetienne (@steveetienne3) March 29, 2020
Yep -- so zany but brilliant.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
One episode: 'The Lost Hour' is perhaps the best one. Soooooo brilliantly conceived.
Is this a series exclusive to the UK?
— William Haveron (@WilliamHaveron) March 29, 2020
It's an American TV show from the early '90s. Although it's seen as a Kids' series, some of the ideas in the episodes is mind boggling.
— Barry (@Mr_B_OB) March 29, 2020
TheBartman277 on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:31 pmfroodleIt’s an absolute monster to kick things off!!
— Fudge (@Danfudge) March 29, 2020
One of the early favourites is going down in the first round
Videos will be posted below #ThemeKing
Dogtanian for me. I liked Round The Twist but the foreign heavyweight for me would be Eerie Indiana
— BartyOwl (@TheBartman277) March 29, 2020
MKUXGuy on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:33 pmfroodleTell me one fun fact about the state you live in that the average American wouldn’t know.
— Marie Connor (@thistallawkgirl) March 29, 2020
Indiana really is as odd as Eerie, Indiana made it seem.
— Mark the UX Guy ⚤ 🇸🇮🥁 (@MKUXGuy) March 29, 2020
FemmeRonin on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:34 pmfroodleEerie Indiana. Its my mission to find and watch today. Also need The Wonder Years in rotation.
— Ronin (@FemmeRonin) March 29, 2020
froodleIf you're binge-watching #eerieindiana during lockdown, consider hitting up @Wart_M to be part of an upcoming #eerieindianazine
— eerieindianadw (@eerieindianalj1) March 29, 2020
Hey @Wart_M, we hereby hit you up! 👋
— Return to Eerie, Indiana (@eerieindianapod) March 29, 2020
teachingliv on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:37 pmfroodleI’ve found my dads three disc Eerie Indiana box set 🥰😍 Cannot wait for this binge #lockdown
— Teaching Liv (@teachingliv) March 29, 2020
touchshriek on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:41 pmfroodleI’ve found my dads three disc Eerie Indiana box set 🥰😍 Cannot wait for this binge #lockdown
— Teaching Liv (@teachingliv) March 29, 2020
Have you seen it before? You’re in for a treat.
— Phil Clements (@touchshriek) March 29, 2020
I have! My dad showed it to us as teens and we loved it. Forcing my partner to binge too 😬😂
— Teaching Liv (@teachingliv) March 29, 2020
Return to Eerie Indiana gets a plug!
Mar. 29th, 2020 02:43 pmfroodleIf <you> have a podcast, plug it in this thread. Not someone else's. I'll do a different thread for that.
— Scott Weinberg (@scottEweinberg) March 29, 2020
RETURN TO EERIE, INDIANA 🎧 A rewatch podcast for the 90s kids TV classic #EerieIndiana 🗞⛹️♂️🌀 Follow us @eerieindianapod pic.twitter.com/QRog5U4oS0
— Becky Darke (@bunnydarke) March 29, 2020
Marshall, Simon and Boris von Orloff
Mar. 29th, 2020 09:43 pmfroodleWhat’s the name of this episode of Eerie Indiana? #eerieindiana #bringbackeerieindiana pic.twitter.com/nivUbKgz5z
— Justin Shenkarow (@justinshenkarow) March 29, 2020
froodleWhat’s the name of this episode of Eerie Indiana? #eerieindiana #bringbackeerieindiana pic.twitter.com/nivUbKgz5z
— Justin Shenkarow (@justinshenkarow) March 29, 2020
Plus where the mummy goes on holiday, the young kid bro wrecks the set
— Andrew (@andrew95899769) March 29, 2020
frankenlincoln on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 11:00 pmfroodle6 Shows!
— BRiAN JAWNSON (@frankenlincoln) March 29, 2020
The Adventures of Pete and Pate
Eerie Indiana
X-Files
Kolchack the Night Stalker
Twilight Zone (original series)
Alfred Hitchcock Presents
joeforceone on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 11:01 pmfroodleMe recomiendan series bacanas, (Hunters, Altered Carbon, star trek ya fueron vistas)
— Alberto Linero (@PLinero) March 28, 2020
Eerie, Indiana
— José Ignacio Cortés Díaz (@joeforceone) March 29, 2020
horrorstalker66 on Eerie Indiana
Mar. 29th, 2020 11:02 pmfroodle24
— Anthony 🎬 (@Horrorstalker66) March 29, 2020
Prison Break
Better Call Saul
Breaking Bad
Eerie Indiana
Street Hawk