Aliens Amongst Us

FILE #: SLF-003

 

Case Status: Unsolved

Filed By: Juxtapose

Date of Occurrence: 10/20/2025

Location: Ivan Hill Stairs

FIELD NOTES

Incident:

One 1980’s Toyota Celica reported idling on Ivan Hill Terrace, packed with aliens, traversing upwards toward cultural assimilation.

Anomaly Classification:

Extraterrestrial Sighting, Illegal Immigration

Risk Assessment:

 

3/10

Witness Statements / Recovered Evidence:

“How in the world did they fit so many of 'em into the back seat?”

Summary

 

I got the tip from one of my sources at the station.

“The guy's a total wacko,” the Sergeant said with a smirk. “He should be right up your alley.”

Once I found the address, my eyes landed on a red lacquered door nestled in ivy halfway up the Ivan Hill stairs, a true Los Angeles anomaly.

A home surveillance camera stared down at me from the trellis as I leaned into the buzzer. A minute later, the door cracked open revealing an old man reminiscent of Willy Nelson, demanding identification, which I dutifully provided.

“Are you Bob *****?”

“What’s it to 'ya?” he sneered.

“I’m responding to a report regarding…little green men and a red Toyota Celica?”

He looked me up and down.

“I'm waiting for the cops.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the best you’ve got,” I told him.

He sized me up for a long moment before opening the door, revealing his bleach-stained bathrobe and a Super Soaker 5000 clutched firmly in his right hand.

“Come on,” he told me. “Get inside.”

According to Bob, on the evening of October 20th a battered economy car idled on Ivan Hill Terrace at the base of the stairs. Defying all logic, 7-10 little green men with bulbous heads and gentile frames unloaded from the backseat. Even stranger, he claimed they shape-shifted into human forms as they climbed the stairs. Allegedly, their ascension to Ivan Hill Drive washed them clean with economic privilege, leaving their alien origins virtually indistinguishable from the common passerby.

“Here, I have proof!”

After digging in his robe’s pocket, he handed me a grainy, low-resolution photograph (possibly doctored) of atypical extraterrestrials circa 1996, anthropomorphizing with every step as they mounted the steps (see picture).

His story was as consistent as he was predictable. He spoke to me in front of a wall adorned with the call-signs of a true, hard-boiled conspiracy theorist: QAnon propaganda, random newspaper clippings and strings or red yarns, presumably connecting the dots. The centerpiece: a framed poster of the X-Files, bearing the autograph of David Duchovny himself (authenticity doubtful).

Bob said this wasn’t his first run in with an alien race. In fact, he claimed to have been abducted four times since 1970.

Never again, he said. Showing off, he switched on a pair of flood lights equipped with 300 watt high-intensity daylight bulbs.

“They hate the light. That and the bleach. That’s what’s loaded in this sucker,” he told me as he patted his oversized vintage squirt gun. “When they come back, I’ll be ready.”

 After listening to him stray from one conspiracy theory to the next, I politely excused myself.  Back in the night, I sighed deeply with relief.

Unlike the cops—V.A.N.I.S.H. will respond to every call, crazy as they may be.

Why? Because, of one thing, I am certain:

Strange things are a’foot at the Silver Lake.

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