One of the biggest problems with being a multiverse investigator is telling people what you do for a living.

Mike (he of the wandering facial hair) likes to tell people he’s an ambassador for Movember.

Sarita explains she’s a materials scientist by making the seat under her questioner mysteriously turn into a log of wood. With holly growing from it.

Madge smiles, pulls her cardigan tighter around her shoulders and says, “Oh, nothing you’d want to worry yourself with, dear.”

But Alex has an urge to tell people what she does.

From her gruff Scottish dad, to her Big Mac-loving lab partner Rik, to her indomitable Auntie Morag.

When they ask what she does, she has to mutter something about crunching numbers for a quantum physics experiment, but what she’d love to do is stand on a rooftop (preferably a low one, she’s only short) and shout, “Oi, you lot, listen up. I’m a multiverse investigator and proud of it.”

The reality is that if she did this, no one would listen. San Francisco is far too busy getting on with its day, after all.

And besides, no one believes that parallel universes are real.

But today, we at the MIU can proudly reveal that we have unearthed four real-life stories that prove parallel universes are real. Unequivocally.

And here’s the first.

Man’s Sock Sucked into Inter-dimensional Void

Gus Poot, 32, of South Redondo, LA, was horrified when he was out for a run and his sock vanished into thin air.

He’d run ten miles and worked up quite a sweat, so decided to sit down and remove his socks. He wriggled his freed toes in the morning air, revelling in the feel of the sun on them, but was then horrified when one of them simply disappeared.

“I was minding my own business,” Gus told us. “Sitting having a rest – I’m not lazy you know, I was tired – and my sock disappeared.”

“One minute it was lying on the floor next to my foot, smouldering nicely, and the next it started spinning. It sucked itself into what looked like some kind of portal, right in front of me.”

Gus tried to alert passers-by but this being LA, they looked like they’d rather shoot him than help him find his missing sock. So he sheepishly put the other sock back on and continued with his run.

“It was awful,” he told us. “My foot was bare in my running shoe. I had to throw the shoe away afterwards, it stank.”

The phenomenon Gus described sounds to us a lot like an inter-dimensional wormhole. And we can reveal that on one mission, we accidentally jumped to a world populated entirely by socks. None of which had a partner, and all of which were very angry.

Is this our only proof? Of course not. Tune in later this week or join the MIU team to receive updates as soo as they break.