A Werewolf Ate My Homework (and other tales from Cedarville)

There are some who believe that magic is gone from this world; or rather, that it never existed in the first place, being nothing but superstitions of fearful apes attempting to impose their will on an uncaring universe.
This is, of course, incorrect. The first bit, not the stuff about humans being fearful apes.
In contrast, there are some who believe that magic, like the nebulous divinity of pantheism, is an all-pervading force unifying the cosmos, and what we in our limits call mundanity is in fact a sliver of Eternity itself.
This is also incorrect. Furthermore, it is hippie nonsense, or at least a symptom of watching too much Star Wars.
There is a third view, however: that magic is still here and never really left, preferring instead to conceal, to relocate, to feign normalcy. Witchcraft still stirs up trouble, the fae still lurk in green glades far from asphalt encroachment, and if you turn around quick enough you might spot the border between this world and the Other Place.
This is, for the most part, incorrect. The Other Place has its own rules, its own power struggles, and generally regards the mundane world with disdain.
However, it is most completely incorrect in Cedarville, MA, where the worst criminals, spies, and dissidents from the Other Place hide from retribution under an uneasy truce. In Cedarville, magic does not hide. It is not separate, or subtle.
And most of all, it does not play by the rules.

(Or: Joe was feeling chaotic and dumped a bunch of AG tributes in a small town AU)