Uncanny County is a full-cast supernatural anthology, and it introduces itself the same way each time. A voice describes riding alone on a moonlit but starless night, missing an exit, and taking the only road left, which runs straight through the county. From there, each episode is its own story with its own characters. What gives the collection its texture is how local the weirdness feels. The county has a sheriff, a radio station broadcasting storm warnings, a newspaper with ad space to fill, a daycare that volunteers for the county and a meteorological institute. Into that setting the stories drop one impossible thing and let everyone react. In Imperfect Storm, a county-wide storm warning leads to something far smaller: a funnel cloud with no moisture, so it can't be seen, that has attached itself to a baby girl. One person wants to run more tests. Another refuses, especially after hearing that a funnel that small will probably dissipate on its own. The Clowning follows a sheriff reassuring a mother named Susan, whose young son Tyler has become obsessed with clowns and keeps making a noise she cannot account for. Wichita Starman hinges on a photo that might show a hubcap, a plate, a frisbee or a saucer, and on a half-page newspaper ad signed by the Wichita Star Man announcing that they're coming back. Wellness moves the unease indoors, to a newly renovated open-plan office where the staff seem almost too eager for the new hire to fit in, and where a key card with an 11:15 time slot is handed over as a welcome. Our Better Angels goes broader, setting talk of opening an interdimensional portal to bring through an angel beside a tense argument about revolution and the status quo, while a man named Del insists his neighbors are trying to kill him. Then there is Santa's Last Stop, narrated in rhyming verse. Its Santa is a former Christmas thief sentenced to community service. On his last stop he meets Timmy, who asks for a new version of a toy unicorn his late grandmother made. The stories range from grief to office satire to flying saucers, but the tone stays consistent: eerie premises handled with a dry sense of humor. The endings reinforce that. Cast credits roll, and a sign-off, often from Todd Faulkner, lands a deadpan joke, such as fearing not the things that go bump in the night but the things that don't. Nicole Grevey takes one sign-off with a vampire pun. The closings also point to Patreon bonus material such as annotated scripts and behind-the-scenes interviews. A listener who wants to sample the show's range could pair Imperfect Storm with Santa's Last Stop, one a county in crisis and the other a holiday fable about loss.