Okay, strap in, Chesterburgh fam, because what I’m about to drop is exactly the kind of wild, kinda weird, totally “only in our town” saga that happens when you mix a quiet Friday night with a suspiciously well-timed power outage. Yup, you heard it here first — or maybe second, 'cause I *definitely* wasn’t the only one who noticed the lights cut out right around 9:13 PM last night. But stick with me, there’s more to this story than just us stumbling blindly into the dark.

So picture it: I’m at Mel’s Diner, enjoying a totally average cheeseburger (side of fries, obviously), scrolling through TikTok because that’s basically my job — keeping an eye on what’s blowing up. Suddenly, bam! The whole joint goes pitch black. No buzz from the neon “Open” sign, no flicker from the old jukebox, nada. Just silence and the faint sound of a couple toddlers freaking out nearby. Classic Chesterburgh blackout move, really.

Now remember how I said the time? 9:13 PM. Not 9:15, not 9:05 — this was precise, and not *one* place on my block had power. Here’s where it gets interesting though: while some folks were grumbling about no Netflix or how they’d miss the season finale of whatever show’s trending, a few pranksters out on Main Street weren’t just staring at walls in confusion. No, they took advantage of the dark — and let me tell you, Chesterburgh prank culture is *legendary*. I heard from someone (yes, very reliable source—I swear!) that there was a whole crew running around with flashlights, making freaky shadow shapes against walls like it was Halloween in March.

But wait, it gets bonkers. Around the same time, multiple people called (or texted, because who calls anymore) me about weird glowing orbs spitting light near the oddly-lit Food Mart parking lot. I know, I know, my usual mysterious light warranting UFO talk, right? AND YES, I was already there, camera ready, probably typing up half this story while balancing my phone and my burger in pitch black.

This is where our beloved Chesterburgh flips from “eh, probably just a busted light” to “hold up, what’s going on here?” eyewitnesses swore they saw about what I can only describe as floating lantern-esque orbs zooming around the parking lot, darting and dipping like some hard-core drone light show gone rogue. One witness I chatted with, Jasmine from Main Street, said, “It was like a bunch of fireflies, but bigger. And none of the kids here have those light-up toys or whatever, so I don’t know what they were, but it was kinda spooky.”

Now, before anyone jumps on me saying “Tyler, chill, it was just a drone or a bug zapper or—,” I’m just telling you what people are saying. And honestly, why would dozens of people have the *same* source of weird light if it was just one crazy drone? Either Chesterburgh’s local tech hobbyists upgraded their game without telling anybody, or there’s some low-key magic—or government experiment—going on behind Food Mart’s dumpsters. Just sayin’.

Meanwhile, Chesterburgh’s finest (AKA the local police) were cruising down Main Street around the same blackout, probably looking for, I dunno, criminals using the darkness as cover? Nope. I caught up with Officer Dan, who was incredibly chill and said, “We’re just handling reports of the outage and some public safety calls. No biggie, no alien invasions yet.” Okay, Dan, thanks for playing it cool. But dude, here’s a bulletin for you — *what if* it IS aliens, huh? I can keep my eyes peeled on this for you!

Meanwhile, the outage itself was sort of old-school Chesterburgh, in the best and worst ways. Because guess what? No one got a heads-up from the power company. No tweets, no texts, just sudden darkness. My buddy Marvin, who runs the bookshop by the library, swears it’s all linked to that giant tree trimming job happening down by the river. I asked if a squirrel had been involved because, let’s be real, squirrels love flipping switches, but Marvin just shrugge