HOW ALIEN FRANK
GOT HERE
The true (mostly true) (definitely true) story of one small alien's very large escape.
READ THE FILE ↓SOMEWHERE UNDER THE DESERT
Deep beneath a stretch of Nevada nobody officially admits exists, something in Hangar 7 started beeping that was never supposed to beep. Lights flickered. A very confused security guard spilled his coffee. And in the chaos, a small, curious, extremely orange alien named Frank slipped out through a vent that was "definitely welded shut."
Frank had spent his whole life being studied, scanned, and poked by clipboard-carrying humans in white coats. He didn't know much about Earth. But he knew one thing for certain: he was done being an exhibit.
OVER THE FENCE, UNDER THE STARS
Frank ran. Well — Frank floated-hopped, which is the closest thing his species has to running. He crossed a chain-link fence marked with a sign that definitely wasn't there anymore by morning, and kept going until the base lights were just a dim orange smear behind him.
Ahead of him: nothing but open desert, a whole lot of stars that actually looked friendly for once, and the longest, loneliest highway he'd ever seen.
THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL HIGHWAY
Frank followed State Route 375 for miles, ducking behind Joshua trees whenever headlights swept the road. Humans, it turned out, had already named this stretch of highway after beings exactly like him. Frank took this as a good sign. Possibly the first good sign of his entire life.
Tired, dusty, and down to his last few volts of energy, Frank finally saw lights in the distance. A tiny town. A hand-painted sign. A porch light left on, like someone was expecting company.
FOUND IN RACHEL
Frank collapsed — gently, dramatically, the way he does everything — right on the edge of Rachel, Nevada. Population: not many. Alien sightings: frequent. He figured if anywhere on Earth was going to take one look at a stranded extraterrestrial and just shrug and offer him a drink, it was here.
He wasn't wrong.
JOINING THE ORANGE VAULT
Word travels fast in a town of alien enthusiasts, and it wasn't long before Frank crossed paths with the crew at Area 51 Precious Metals. They didn't want to study him. They didn't want to scan him. They just wanted to know if he liked silver.
He did. A lot. Turns out Frank has always had a strange pull toward precious metals — something about the shine reminds him of home. These days, Frank's got a new mission: hanging out at the Orange Vault, hosting Sunday shows, handing out giveaways, and helping spread a few Little Franks of his own across the country.
HELP FRANK SPREAD OUT
Every Little Frank given out at a show is a tiny piece of the escape continuing — a little alien finding a new home somewhere on the map. Log yours in below and add your spot to the growing map of everywhere Alien Frank now calls home.
LOG YOUR LITTLE FRANK ↗WHERE FRANK LIVES NOW
Every Little Frank logged below. Zoom in to see where the invasion has spread.