Everyone knew Love Doppelgängers was a terrible title, but no one knew what to call it instead. They had lived with the title for so long that it had almost become good by sheer virtue of repetition and familiarity. It was not, in fact, good. As Sam said to Marx, “Love Doppelgängers is an excellent title if we want twelve people to play this game.” Unfair couldn’t afford that. After the modest performance of Both Sides, Love Doppelgängers needed to work commercially.

The one person who didn’t know Love Doppelgängers was terrible: Simon Freeman, the person who had come up with it. Simon had studied German in school and had an adolescent obsession with all things Kafka. “I don’t think it’s that bad,” Simon said, feeling offended at Sam’s utter certainty that it was terrible. “Why won’t it work?”

“No one knows what a doppelgänger is,” Sam said.

“Lots of people know what a doppelgänger is!” Simon defended his title.

“Maybe not enough people know what a doppelgänger is,” Marx amended Sam.
Sadie thought she’d quite possibly lose her mind if one more person said doppelgänger.

“If kids know one German word, it’s ‘doppelgänger,’ ” Simon said.

“What kids are these?” Sam said. “Are they all in AP English?”

“Well, then, they can learn,” Simon said. “We can put a definition on the cover, a footnote—”

“A footnote? Are you kidding? You know what says, Get ready for a great time gaming? A cover with a footnote,” Sam said.