I climbed over the sleeping Bullwinkle's legs and entered my bedroom. I took the seven bottles of white-out from the bottom drawer of the dresser beside my bed, returned to the living room, opened the first bottle, and splashed the white-out onto Bullwinkle's right leg. The white-out spread up and down his entire leg and absorbed into his hide, and the leg faded, faded, faded, and disappeared. I splashed the second bottle of white-out onto the other leg, and it, too, faded, fainter and fainter, and disappeared.

The legless Bullwinkle rolled off the couch and his nose hit the floor. "Christ!" he yelled.

He propped himself up with his arms and aimed his two ink-black pupils at me, two bottomless black holes that would not let me look away, and said, "About time you figured it out."

Those two dark ovals, absolutely dark ovals, pulled me in deeper and deeper, and grew, and grew, swallowing the apartment, the apartment building, the world, the rest of all possible worlds...