"6 Shortingtown Road" - daniel NL frog

As I was walking down the street of the unfamilar city, I was wondering, "What was I doing here? What was I sent here to do?" Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. I never told you my name, or my job, or anything.
I'm Doug Morrison, worker at Filmed Travel Corporation, which is a place that pays me big bucks to travel to other places and review things. My boss, Gary, had an idea to send me to the cheapest place he could find. "I want you to review the best and the cheapest thing this time, Doug," he said. "People are losing interest in our magazine and our reviews."
And, to tell you the truth, they were. People had no interest in the high and well-to-do places. They wanted the cheapest and the best. In the society today, that's hard.
Gary said to me, "There's this place, it's in the town of Bosket, and it's on a street called Shortingtown Road."
"Weird name," I replied.
"True, but the rates on that street, I have been told are around fifteen dollars for two days. I would love to see a place like that."
"So, what do you want me to do? Go there and find that place, and review it? It's probably crappy as all get out."
"You want to lose your job?"
"No."
And that was all it took to get me to go to the town of Bosket, and a road called Shortingtown. It was a small street, if you ask me, about ten little houses around. I parked my car and walking down the street, I saw this place that just made my day.
"Ten dollars every two days," I repeated to myself what the sign had said. "Ten dollars." This would be the chace of a lifetime, to see something ten dollars and worth something. I looked at the address. "6 Shortingtown Road."
I went to the door, thinking about how small the place was. I saw a screen showing that the house held 199. How can they put all these people in this small place? There's got to be a weird thing about this place.
I rang the doorbell, not knowing what was behind it. A woman, just a little bit short, with blond hair and blue eyes, came out.
"Good evenin', sir. Been 'pectin' ya. Ya wanna room?"
"Well, sure," I said. "I heard you had ten dollar rooms."
"That be true, bud. Come on in, ya hear?"
Something told me this place was not right, but I considered the place still.
"You room is the second floor, go to the right, and you'll be there." Then she gave me a key, numbered 200. "Well, I'll give ya a discount for bein' the 200th person here. How 'bout five dollars?"
"Okay..." I was wary. I walked up the stairs, and went to the right. Then a bright light blinded me.
"Wha..." I was dizzy, and fell to the floor. I looked up, and saw all different sizes of people. Smaller people, same sized people, and people in jars against the wall.
"Hello everyone," the familar voice said. "Number 200 fin'lly arrived. Now I 'fishly have ma own LITTLE town. Get it? Little town! HA HA! How I can crack m'self up sometimes, I dunno."
Then the woman picked me up and explained, "Ya mine now. Listen, ev'ry day, you'll be shrinkin' a halfa inch. When ya get tuh a halfa inch, you'll be goin' widuh uthas. But fuh now, yo in the village circle, whah ev'ryone meets fuh duh day."
"What about going home?" I asked.
"Goin' home?" she replied. "This IS ya home."