“What are you saying?” I asked.
“There are many of us who believe that somebody or something has been working to…compromise the game.”
“Is that possible?” Chloe asked.
“Think about what happened with that politician in London. Look how public that was,” Fatman said.
“So?” I asked.
“？‘The door is open’？ You do know that’s a key phrase in the game, right?”
“Sure,” I said, “but it’s also just four words.”
“You don’t believe it’s a coincidence,” he said.
“Maybe not, but those four words were used in connection with Jesselman’s take on immigration during his campaign two election cycles back. We can’t be sure his suicide was connected to Rabbits.”
“He was involved with a group called The Children of the Gray God—a pagan-based cult in England. He was busted having sex with three of their younger female members on Glastonbury Tor. It was a bit of a scandal.”
“The Children of the Gray God?”
“Yep. The very same secretive group that has been mentioned in connection with Rabbits in the past. The group that—”
Just as Neil was about to say something more, his computer screens lit up with activity. He pressed a few keys and suddenly a text alert popped up on his phone. “Sorry, I have to get back to work.”
“Can we meet again sometime this week? Maybe tomorrow?” I asked.
“Nope,” Neil said as he led us out of his office and back up through the gate.
“What?” Chloe asked. “Why not?”
“Whatever you do, stay away from the game,” he said as he closed and locked the gate behind us.
Our interview was clearly over.
* * *
—
We left Fatman Neil working on the makeshift citywide computer matrix he kept in his strange porn shop basement, and made our way back to Chloe’s car. The moment she closed her door, she turned to face me. “What the fuck is up with the Berenstein Bears and the homemade super-spy computer bullshit?”
“Berenstain,” I said.
“You’re not funny,” Chloe said.
“I’m actually serious.”
“It’s fucking Berenstein, and I’m not arguing with you.”
For those who might be unfamiliar with the Berenstain multiverse conundrum, there’s a popular series of children’s books called The Berenstain Bears. But, interestingly, just like Chloe, most people remember it as The Berenstein Bears. This belief in an alternate pronunciation actually runs much deeper than a simple argument that can be addressed with a Google search. The people who remember The Berenstein Bears insist their spelling and pronunciation are correct, and refuse to believe that name had ever been written or pronounced any other way.
So, what happened?
The most prevalent theory goes like this: At some point in our history, two （or more） dimensions or streams of time diverged. Our world somehow hopped tracks—slipped streams into a parallel reality. There now exists an alternate reality—which is actually our previous reality, or one of our previous realities—where that series of books is still called The Berenstein Bears and Berenstain never existed.
There are similar theories surrounding a nonexistent film from the 1990s called Shazaam, which allegedly starred the comedian Sinbad as a genie, and the Mandela effect, a phrase coined by self-described “paranormal consultant” Fiona Broome. Broome claimed that she remembered South African leader Nelson Mandela dying in prison in the 1980s, while in reality Mandela lived until December 2013.
The most logical explanation for all of these competing memories is perhaps best illustrated by the following example. The belief people share that a film from the 1990s called Shazaam starring Sinbad existed is most likely due to a number of factors, including the following: Sinbad the comedian presented a number of Sinbad the Sailor movies in 1994. While presenting the films, Sinbad wore a genielike costume. In 1996, a similarly named film, Kazaam, was released starring basketball player Shaquille O’Neal as a genie.
So, we’re either misremembering similar things en masse, or we’re living in slightly different dimensional streams that branched off at some point in the past.
As an interesting aside, Fatman Neil had a Kazaam poster up in his lair.
* * *
—
“Neil seems like a fairly well-adjusted guy,” I said.
Chloe held up her hands. “I can’t even.”
We drove for a few minutes in silence.