Your Annoying Upstairs Neighbor is a Troll
No, literally. He's a 7-foot-tall bridge-dwelling troll.
MILWAUKEE, WI – Local apartment dweller Sandra Martinez thought the constant stomping, growling, and mysterious smell of rotting fish coming from the unit above hers was just another case of inconsiderate city living. She was dead wrong. After months of sleepless nights and escalating complaints to building management, Martinez made a shocking discovery that has rocked the Riverside Commons apartment complex to its very foundation: her upstairs neighbor isn’t just annoying—he’s a genuine, bridge-dwelling troll who stands nearly seven feet tall.
The truth came to light last Tuesday evening when Martinez, fed up with what sounded like “someone dropping bowling balls filled with rocks,” decided to confront her mysterious neighbor face-to-face. What she found when the door creaked open defied all rational explanation.
“I was expecting maybe some huge bodybuilder guy, you know? Someone who could explain all that noise,” Martinez told this reporter, her hands still trembling days after the encounter. “Instead, I’m staring up at this massive, hairy creature with these tiny beady eyes and tusks jutting out from his lower jaw. He was wearing a stained tank top that barely covered his enormous gut, and the smell—oh God, the smell was like a fish market during a power outage.”
The creature, who grunted his name as “Grunk,” apparently moved into apartment 4B three months ago after his previous dwelling—the underside of the Historic Third Ward Bridge—became “too crowded with homeless humans.” Building records, obtained through sources who wished to remain anonymous, show the lease was signed with a crude ‘X’ and the security deposit paid entirely in old subway tokens and bottle caps.
Dr. Millicent Thornberry, a cryptozoologist at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and author of “Urban Mythicals: When Folklore Comes Knocking,” wasn’t surprised by the revelation. “What people don’t realize is that traditional troll habitats have been systematically destroyed by urban development. These creatures have been forced to adapt, and frankly, a rent-controlled apartment is far more comfortable than a damp bridge underpass,” Dr. Thornberry explained during our exclusive interview. “The constant noise complaints make perfect sense—trolls are naturally heavy-footed due to their dense bone structure, and their dietary habits tend to produce rather pungent odors.”
Other residents of the building have begun connecting previously inexplicable incidents to their supernatural neighbor. Mrs. Chen from 3A recalls strange demands slipped under her door written in broken English: “PAY TOLL FOR HALLWAY PASSAGE – 3 SHINY COINS OR 1 GOAT.” The building’s maintenance staff has reportedly been baffled by recurring clogs in the plumbing system, which upon investigation contained what appeared to be fish bones, pebbles, and unidentifiable chunks of moss.
Perhaps most disturbing are the reports of Grunk’s feeding habits. Residents have witnessed him emerging from his apartment at dawn, shuffling toward the nearby Milwaukee River with a fishing net fashioned from what looks suspiciously like stolen WiFi cables. Security footage shows him returning hours later, dragging garbage bags that leave wet, fishy trails in the hallway carpet.
The apartment management company, Prestige Properties LLC, has remained suspiciously silent about the situation. Multiple calls to their offices were met with hurried hang-ups, and their on-site manager has mysteriously taken “indefinite vacation leave.” Sources within the company suggest that Grunk’s lease contains unusual clauses, including provisions for “bridge-substitute dwelling rights” and exemptions from standard noise ordinances due to “species-specific behavioral patterns.”
Local authorities seem equally reluctant to intervene. When contacted, the Milwaukee Police Department claimed they had “no record of any supernatural residents” and suggested concerned citizens contact animal control instead. Animal control, meanwhile, insisted that trolls fall outside their jurisdiction and recommended calling the Parks Department since bridges are technically city infrastructure.
As this story goes to print, Martinez has decided to break her own lease rather than continue cohabiting with her mythological neighbor. “I thought city living meant dealing with loud music and late-night parties,” she said, loading boxes into her car. “Nobody warned me about seven-foot trolls demanding toll payments for using the elevator.”
The characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is unintentional and purely coincidental.
